


A Contract With A Witch

by WingKalas



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: F/M, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingKalas/pseuds/WingKalas
Summary: The beginning of a new Holy Grail War demands a multitude of Masters gather to fight for the Holy Grail, the granter of wishes untold. But what defines a war? What defines a Servant? Are they human, or just a manifestation of human history through the Root? And does the creation of a Servant that should never have existed defy any definition of what a Servant is? And the ultimate question: is a romantic relationship between a Master and a Servant that was created through the seething hatred of another person, one with no memory of her own, even possible?
Relationships: Jeanne d'Arc Alter | Avenger/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my very first fic in the Fate universe, and I'm very excited to be posting it here. I got the idea while trying to summon Jalter on a banner and thought, "What if another Holy Grail War broke out, and someone was able to summon an Extra Class Servant? like summoning Jeanne in Apocrypha?" I used some in-universe lore, as well as some added flair, to craft a story that focused mainly on Jeanne Alter and her Master, but allowed for additional exploration of what a Servant is, as well as the rules of mana and magecraft in general. This is a very self-indulgent fanfiction, but I tried to keep the story focused on being a story with added external factors, such as multiple Servants adhering to one Master despite not being summoned by said Master; such things are used for the sake of storytelling and drama. Also, some Servants are used moreso for cool points rather than their abilities or their personalities, and others felt like a good fit for the story I wished to tell in this universe.

I was 21 when I got my Command Seal on my left hand.

I remember it like it was yesterday, no less. The searing pain, only for a second or two, causing me to look at the back of my hand, seeing the ornately shaped red mark etched onto the back of my hand and realizing that I had been chosen by the Grail to participate in a Holy War, cursing my rotten luck in this matter. Why me, I wondered, out of anyone it could have been, the Grail chose me? Why? Shaking off my disposition, I decided to find a quiet place to summon my Servant, figuring that the sooner I got this over with, the better.  
Returning home once this had happened, I did my research of where I was to go next, sweating as I placed my money I had saved for college into a plane ticket to France, quickly set up a summoning circle in the catacombs once I had arrived there hours later, noting that the magical leyline there was quite fortuitous indeed to be there. Once the circle had been made, a burning fire with a stake meant for the so-called Witch of Orleans as the catalyst in the center, I extended my hand and spoke the incantation.  
“I now proclaim, thou shalt come before me! My fate is with thy spear! Obey the summons of the Holy Grail! If thou obeyest my will and reason, answer! I hereby pledge, I shall assist in your vengeance upon those who have wronged you, so that you may reenact your desire to punish the wicked as you had been judged! Thou, the seventh Heaven, clad in the great trinity of language, emerge from the circle of constraint, thou reverse of the scales!” As my words echoed through the empty room, the crackling of electricity began to move through the air, bouncing off of the buried bones and getting louder and louder as I continued the summoning spell, the sound growing as if the voices of the buried were commanding me to stop. But I couldn't. Not anymore. Once I had finished the summoning spell, the circle glowed bright with the crackling of electricity that I had heard before. As the spattering of the shocks grew to a deafening roar, the room filled with light before a woman stood in the middle of the circle. Her face was quite pale, her eyes a dull yellowish colour, the woman in question wielding a darkened spear in her right hand, looking around at her surroundings before turning to face me, her eyes locked upon me. “You. You summoned me, did you not? Are you my Master? Speak up, or I'll be sure to kill you slowly.”  
“At ease, Jeanne D'Arc Alter,” I said, raising my hand towards her, to which she sneered somewhat. “I have summoned you, yes, which makes me your Master. You understand that this means you can't let any harm come to me, correct?”  
A scornful scoff. “Sure, you're my Master, what of it? Surely you don't believe that I'm going to listen to you, do you, jackass?”  
Now it was my turn to smile. Alter indeed. “Maybe not. But it would be better for both of us if you did. This is a Holy War, Jalter, and I need-” “Hey now, I can't just let you nickname me immediately!”, she objected, interrupting me as she stepped towards me, gripping my collar and lifting me off the ground with ease.  
“The hell's your deal, huh?!! You think you can just keep me as your pet or something? Fuck you!” I sigh internally, placing my left hand upon her arm, and channel my Command Seal.  
"Put me down, and calm down”, I order, the yellow-eyed Avenger gritting her teeth as she slowly placed me back upon the floor, her breathing somewhat unsteady as she chuckled darkly. ”So that's your plan, huh? You're just gonna keep using your spells to keep me in check?”  
“No. I only use them when you're being unruly, now _listen to me_.” My tone is very heavy, my gaze staring into her eyes as I speak. “If I die, you've been summoned for absolutely no reason, and that wouldn't be good at all. No, I have a dream, and a wish for the Grail, and that's why you're here now, Avenger of Orleans. You are to help me with this, and, if we are successful, you may yet obtain that power you seek.”  
Jalter stared back at me, the seething fire of anger seeming to cool slightly as she asked, “I could kill those that killed me? The bastards that murdered a girl who acted in the name of God, the ones who betrayed me and sent me to the purifying fires, to be burned as a witch?”  
“Indeed,” I reply simply, and a wild smile crosses the Avenger's face, a slight chuckle emitting from within her throat. “Very well, then, Master. But know this: if you are lying to me, or I find out that you're using me, I won't hesitate to kill you, even if it means nonexistence. It's better to have never lived at all than to have false hope for the future.”

“So we're in agreement, then,” I reply, letting go of the less angry woman now, her slight nod of resented alliance with me affirming this. “Then let's start with this question: who else are we fighting?”  
“Do you know how Grail Wars work... _Master?_ ”, Jalter asked, sarcastically, to which I replied, “Not really, but I do know some things. There are seven Masters in a typical Holy War, though if this is anything aside from that, we may be in a bit of trouble.  
“So we don't know who we're up against, and we're wasting time when we could be finding this out, right?”, the woman said, taking steps towards the stairs. “So let's go, then, we have some people to kill!”  
“Jeanne, wait!”, I cry out, grabbing her shoulder as she turns to look at me angrily once again, but I hastily explain, “If you die, so do I, and the work you do will be for nothing. Do you want that Grail or not? Because if you do, you need to stop making rash decisions like this!”  
With a sight growl, Jalter secedes, looking at me from the bottom of the stairs. “So what do you suggest we do, then? Wait here like sitting ducks for them to come to us?”  
“No. I have an idea, but I'll need to contact someone in the Mage's Association...”

After getting in contact with my friend at the Mage's Association and flying back to my home, I told Jalter to stay in my apartment unless I commanded her forth (which she grudgingly agreed to, wishing to take the fight to the other Servants, and feeling that I was unprotected without her, taking the train to the Library of Alexandria, sighing as I came before the front steps to the library. “I just hope that you can help me out here...”, I said to myself, climbing the marble steps up to the front doors, swinging them open and entering, the receptionist smiling at me as I approach.  
“Hi, I'm here to see the boss,” I say to her, the receptionist understanding and nodding before bringing me into the mage labs. I thanked her, and she left again as I stepped in, calling out, “I'm looking for Avalon, has anyone seen her?”  
The lab assistants looked at each other, whispering to one another, before one of them approached me and said, “Uhm, sorry sir, you just missed her, she left about twenty minutes ago-”  
“Ugh...I guess I'll have to swing by her place...that's really dangerous...”, I say to myself, before one of the assistants says, “Hey, you've got a Command Seal! Does that mean...you're a Master?!”  
The singular word, 'Master', echoes throughout the lab, the mages all clambering around me in order to confirm that I was, in fact, selected to participate in a Holy Grail War. I shrugged them off as best I could, intending on getting the information to their boss, thanking the receptionist as I exited and sighing while stepping down the stairs, all while having the strangest feeling that I was being followed. I activated my Command Seal and said, “Jeanne, get to my location, now. I think there's a Servant around here somewhere-”  
As I say that, I hear the loosing of an arrow, moving as quickly as I could and feeling the arrowhead graze my cheek, the cut causing blood to trickle down the side of my face as I press my hand up to it, getting into cover as best I could while staunching the bleeding with my hand.  
Shit... _shit!_ There's an Archer here, somewhere, but...where is he?!! And who?! I kept as low as I could, sticking to cover and listening for the familiar _thwip_ sound of another arrow being loosed, but as I rounded the corner, I heard the sound too late, an arrow sticking directly in my thigh, my body crumpling to the ground as I yelled out in pain. The sound of footsteps came closer, and I turned to see who the Servant was.  
It was, from what I could see, a man, but not just any man; no, he looked far too strange to be just a man. His skin was dark, his eyes golden, the fabric of the jacket he wore a stark contrast of black with golden patterns, his head closely shaven. As he continued to step forwards, I noticed that he didn't seem to have any remorse or fear in his eyes; if anything, he had nothing there, no pain, no sadness, no emotion at all.

Just the desire to kill.

“Who are you?”, I asked, trying to get up and away from the Servant, but he picked me up by the jacket with one hand, not saying a word as he did so, and pulled out a small, curved blade. It wasn't small enough to be a knife, but was far too short to be a sword. Either way, he gripped the hilt with his free hand, pulling it out and moving to plunge it into my chest when-

_KA-TING!_

The sound of the knife clattering to the ground a fair distance away as I fell from the Servant's grip was a somewhat welcome sound, but what had caused him to...?  
I looked up, and saw Jeanne Alter, defending herself against the dark-skinned man's ferocious attacks, seemingly holding her own against him. Her teeth were gritted in anger as she fought, her flag and straight sword swinging and being deflected simply by this man's-no, this _Servant's_ limbs with ease, as if they were both fighting with their hands and feet, and though he was bloodied from the sword's slicing into his skin, he didn't show any signs of pain.  
“Emiya Alter!”, the scornful witch yelled out, attempting to sweep his feet out from under him, which he jumps over and kicks Jalter in the stomach, stunning her long enough to get the distance advantage before notching another arrow and firing it at her, though in the last split second she swings her flagpole upwards, knocking the arrow out of the air.

With a short laugh, the Alter man runs and grabs his knife before starting to run away, Jeanne going to chase him down before I cry out, “Jeanne! Please, I can't stand up! Help me, I'm begging you!”  
Watching the man run out of her view, she balls up her fist before saying, “Fuck!”, trotting over towards me and kneeling next to me. “Let me see what he did.”  
I move onto my front, showing off the leg that Emiya Alter had shot the arrow into. “Mmmm...that's pretty shitty, but...stay still, and...ugh, here,” she grudgingly said, handing me one of her gloves. “Bite onto this, because this _will_ hurt.”  
Realizing what she meant, I immediately did as she ordered before feeling her pull the arrow out of my leg, growling loudly in pain as she did so, the glove muffling most of it.  
“We have to get you to safety,” she said. “You said the Mage's Association was nearby, yes? We're asking for their assistance. It's all we can do.”  
“Yeah, so long as I don't bleed out all over their floor,” I retort, to which she says, “Do you want me to put that arrow back in?”, shutting me up as she hurriedly carries me back into the Mage's Association building.

The assistants were all shocked to see me again so soon, and equally as shocked to see that I had summoned the alternate version of Jeanne D'arc, but as she had angrily asked before they could inquire what was going on, “Help my Master get better before I start piking you nerds to make you work faster!”  
One of them pulled out a first aid kit and immediately began treating my wound, a more feminine voice saying, “Well now, you almost got killed this early in a Holy Grail War? You really must be more careful, Kalas.”  
I sighed. “Nice to see you too, Avalon. Think you can stuff some of your hard wit down until I get a bit better and your mages can heal my leg?”  
She scoffs, her emerald green eyes scanning me as her mage assistants treat my leg. “Please, if I didn't scorn you for not bringing your Servant with you out in the open, how would I live with myself?”  
“Yeah, yeah, chuckle it up all want, ya fuckin...uggh, it hurts too much to even try and retort.”  
Jalter shook her head. “She's right, you're an idiot for thinking you could live normally with that Command Seal upon your hand. So long as you have that, you're a target.”  
“Exactly. What if it had been an Assassin-class? You probably wouldn't be here right now,” Avalon says, adjusting her glasses.  
I scowl, but say nothing. She's right, as always. But what did I expect from my longtime friend and head of the Mage's Association?

“If you die, your Servant disappears. That's the number one rule of a Holy Grail War, isn't it?”, she says, folding her arms and shaking her head at me before turning to Jalter. “You came rather quickly, and despite your alignment, you seem to harbour a caring side for your Master.”  
Jalter scoffed in response. “He's my Master. He called, I came to save his sorry ass. I _told him_ that he should take me, but he didn't listen, and this is what happened.”  
Avalon nods, a slight smile upon her face. “Very well then. A business approach, very noble of you.”  
Jalter rolled her eyes, shaking her head and walking away slightly.  
Avalon turned back to me, looking down and saying, “Now, we've learned our lesson, haven't we? Trust your partner. You summoned her, therefore you have to work with her. Same goes for her with you. You have to work together, and trust one another. I know better than anyone that things go smoother when you work with a partner.”  
“Yeah...sucks that we didn't work out, though,” I said, slightly more biting than I had meant.  
“The fact that you came back here for help is cute, but the Summoning Program was our idea together-”  
“It was _my_ idea! You just tacked your name on it and gave the speeches and stuff!”, I countered, swinging my legs off of the table I lay upon and finding my balance once again, with the help of the table I had been lying on. “And who got the praise? Who got showered in thunderous applause, while I got shut down because I wasn't participating?”  
“You're still sore about that?”, she says, frowning slightly. “It was ages ago now.”  
“Maybe to you, but...”, I said, struggling to find the point I was trying to make. Avalon was right, of course; she was always right. That made everything even harder, though, especially since I genuinely admired her. She seemed close to perfect in everything she did with the Mage's Association, and I had been swept under the rug and forgotten about. It was hard not to be upset when your greatest achievement had been taken from you, much less by someone you considered a friend.  
“Either way, you're fine now, so...”, she says, her gaze drifting from me, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. “I guess you'll be going now, then.”  
“About fucking time, too,” Jalter said, stretching her joints as she made small noises to accompany it. “I was getting bored, surrounded by all these wizard nerds.” She looks to me, and finishes with, “Let's go, Master,” before turning to exit through the front door.  
I sigh, turning to wave at Avalon, her halfhearted wave in response evidence that we were still friendly to one another, but we weren't quite friends anymore, either.  
As I exited the building, a purple-haired girl came from behind Avalon, looking at me and Jalter as we left the facility. “Who were they, Master?”  
“No one important, BB,” Avalon replied. “Just a person I used to be close with.”  
“Would you want to be close to them again?”, she inquired, to which Avalon looked at the Command Seal on the back of her hand.  
“We can't be. Not anymore.”

“Well that was a waste,” Jalter said to me, stepping down the stairs with me as I hobbled slightly, the Alter looking at me with a slight frown. “Are you gonna be able to walk right now, Master?”  
“I'll be fine,” I say, sighing. “Just give me a bit.”  
“I can carry you if you want, but only if you _want_ me to. I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart or whatever stupid bullshit you wanna attribute it to,” she says, giving me a piercing gaze with those yellow eyes of hers. They were honestly quite pretty, in a cursed sort of way, like how the moonlight reflects so beautifully off of the recently spilled blood of an eviscerated animal by a predator.  
I looked into her eyes, and, in a weird way, I felt a sort of odd connection with her, like I was supposed to summon this angry, corrupted holy woman. I thought about what Avalon had said, trust your partner.  
“Alright, then,” I said to Jalter, looking at her directly. “I want you to carry me home, then. Bridal carry me.”  
Jalter looked at me, a slightly confused look, before she burst out laughing, full on cackling. “You-you're fucking with me right now. You're _fucking_ with me! You wanna be _bridal carried home_?!! Oh, oh God, that's rich, ahahaha! Oh fuck, that's...hahaha...”  
As her laughter trailed off, she looked at me, realizing that I was still waiting. “You're not fucking serious.”  
“Oh, I absolutely _am_ , Jeanne Alter. I want you to scoop me up in your arms and carry me home,” I replied, the grin on my face getting bigger as her face turned to one of horror, knowing that I could use my Command Seal to make her do it.  
“You're bluffing. You're _shitting_ with me right now.”  
“No, I'm not, Jeanne-”  
“I told you to stop calling me that!”  
“And _I_ told _you_ to carry me!”  
“Urggh, this is getting us _nowhere_!”, she cries out in frustration, before finally saying, “Alright, fine, I'll carry you, ya dumb...fucking asshole...”

She picks me up, one arm under my knees and the other upon the nape of my neck, breathing a sigh of resentment for what I had ordered her to do. “You better pay me back for this, Master.”  
“This is a reward enough for me,” I say, smiling slightly.  
“Huh?”, she says, genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?”  
“Being carried by a strong, beautiful maiden like yourself, I mean,” I chuckle. “It's quite nice.”  
She blushed slightly, growling slightly and repeating, “...fucking _asshole..._ ”, before beginning to run back to my abode, the distance that it took the train to bring me here near negligible as we arrived quite a bit sooner than expected back at my home, the Avenger placing me down.  
“Well, that was...quick,” I say, standing and hobbling to the front door before unlocking it, Jalter following behind me. “Guess we'll have to figure out where the other Servants are, and _who_ they are, too. We've got the Archer, but...I don't think this is just a normal Holy Grail War.”  
“Hmmm?”, the Avenger asks. “What makes you say that?”  
“Because I summoned you.”

After we decided that it would be best if she stayed close to me as a precaution so that the events with Emiya Alter didn't happen again, I decided that if I wanted to seem like a normal human being that she would have to dress somewhat normally to blend in a bit better, so we went to the local mall to see what she could wear, her temporarily borrowing some of my clothes.  
“Why not just wear those?”, I asked on the way, to which she replied, “Because I could just summon clothes, but I want my own. Not something the Grail gives me, something _I_ own.”  
Shrugging as we entered, she dragged me into the local Hot Topic (making me sigh, since I knew this would happen, but prayed it wouldn't), and I sat there watching her try on shirts and dresses galore, until finally she settled on something that she liked: a Death tarot card graphic tee accompanied by a navy blue zip-up hoodie and a pair of black jeans that were ripped at the knees, her hand resting upon her hip as she looked at me, asking, “Well? Do I look decent?”  
“You look amazing,” I replied, standing up and out of the chair as she made a slight choking sound. “Wh-what is it, Jeanne?”  
“Y-you dick! I'm not pretty, damn it!”, she stammers, blushing intensely as she continued to pout and say that she wasn't attractive. “Stop saying I am when I'm not!”  
“Why would I lie to you, though?”, I ask, and she looks at me like I had punched her in the gut, clutching the shirt she was wearing and clenching her teeth slightly, following me as she still seemed to be reeling from this as I paid for her outfit and we left, heading back to my house, the Avenger quiet the entire time.

As I open the front door, I turn to ask, “Jalter, why were you upset that I called you cute? I can't say you aren't-”  
“Of course you could!”, she interrupts, pushing past me as she talks. “You could have said that the shirt looked awful or that the pants were too ripped up or that the outfit looked wrong but you didn't! Why?!”  
I looked at her, confused. “Because you _didn't_ look awful, Jeanne-”  
“Stop _calling me that, dammit!”_ , she shouts at me. “We've barely known each other for two days, and you're acting so nice to me! I've treated you like absolute garbage until now! But look at you: you've bought me clothes, you've let me carry you, you're just-you're insufferable! I hate you!”  
I look at her, my expression one of absolute surprise, but before I can stop myself, I walk over and slap her across the face as hard as I can, making her stumble as she clasps her cheek. She looks at me in a flash of anger, but is surprised to see me absolutely enraged by her words.  
“Don't _ever_ take my kindness as weakness, Jeanne D'arc Alter. You may see me as just another Master, but I've given up a lot of things just to be able to summon you. A lot of opportunities, a lot of relationships, and a lot of my time and effort were spent researching how I could possibly summon you to be my Servant.”  
I take a deep breath in through my nose, and turn away from her, wiping my eyes free of tears. “I'm gonna go outside for a bit. Follow me if you want, you don't have to. I trust and respect you, even if you don't feel the same about me.”  
I start to leave, and she seems to watch me exit the house, closing the door behind me, and breathing slowly as my body shook from the adrenaline. I know I was upset with her for being mad at me, but...I was just complimenting her. I suppose that maybe I was letting my feelings get in the way, but I couldn't know for sure. Either way, I wasn't going to let it bother me, heading back to the mall, back to Hot Topic. I had to get something to make it up, and I noticed she was looking at it, so why not?

When I returned to the house about 25 minutes later, Jalter was in the basement, sitting in a chair and acting like I wasn't there.  
“Jeanne,” I begin, “I just want to tell you that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you, I'm better than that. I told you that I wasn't going to be a bad Master to you, but...I guess I fucked that up now, huh?”  
She still said nothing, though she did turn towards me as I spoke, looking more and more like she believed me while still silently listening.  
“I know that what I did wasn't something that Masters should ever do, but...we're a Master and a Servant. We're supposed to work together, and I thought that complimenting you was a good idea, so...if you feel uncomfortable with it, please just tell me! I...I just want to be a good Master for you!”  
She got up out of the chair, walked over to me, and looked at me, her yellow eyes staring daggers into my blue. Finally, she said, “I forgive you. But I won't forget this. Now then-”, she said, looking at the Hot Topic bag in my hand, “What's this? A peace offering?”  
“Of...a sort, yes...”, I reply, reaching into the bag and pulling out a pair of booty shorts that have “Art Thou Nasty” across the ass, handing them over to her as her expression softens.  
“You...got these for me...?”, she asks, blinking a couple of times at my continued generosity despite her hostility, and even the short spat we had earlier, looking at me with genuine confusion. “I don't...I don't understand...”  
“You don't have to,” I say, sighing softly. “I wronged you, and I wanted to make it right by buying you these. I saw you look at them, so I figured...”  
She looks at them, somewhat skeptic, before giving me a half smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I wasn't sure if I should even have them, but... I guess you decided that for me, huh?”  
I chuckle. I guess I did, yeah. If you, don't want them, I can always-”  
She cut me off with a kiss to my cheek, blushing slightly. “Don't think this will ever happen again, you dick. I'm just happy you even thought of me, that's all.”  
I stand there, somewhat speechless, before saying, “I mean, o-obviously if you want something...”

 _Trust your partner._ _You summoned her, therefore you have to work with her. Same goes for her with you. You have to work together, and trust one another._

Avalon's words echoed in my head the entire time. It wasn't that I didn't trust her; if anything, I trusted her with my life far before I had even summoned her. She was here for the main purpose of fighting for me, and I needed to remember that, despite everything, Servants were, at one point, people; that they were displaced persons in time, in a future they couldn't even begin to fathom existed long after they left the world. But even so, they were people, once, and I needed to respect that.  
Way too many of my fellow mages didn't remember that their Servants had emotions as well. They would just summon someone, use them to perform tasks, abuse them however they saw fit. And then, effectively, even if they didn't quite remember the person distinctly, the Master they serve could make all the difference on whether or not they would be willing to be summoned. It was saddening, seeing other Servants being treated as less than dirt. I never thought it was right.  
But Jalter...Jalter deserved, perhaps, even _more_ respect, seeing as she was an alternate version of Jeanne D'arc that shouldn't even exist, and yet here she was, the Maiden of Vengeance, purged by the French church for being a so-called witch and returning to wreak havoc upon the people who killed her. Even if she wasn't the same person as Jeanne D'arc, they share the same memories, so does that make her the same? What _was_ Jalter, if not just a version of Jeanne if she had miraculously survived being burned at the stake and filled with vengeance?  
I sighed to myself, looking at the yellow-eyed woman as she sized up the gift I had given her, stretching the shorts slightly to look more closely at them before nodding in satisfaction, causing me to smile at her. “Come on. We've got a war to win, Jalter.”


	2. Chapter 2

My Master had given me life. He had summoned me to this Holy Grail War, and while I knew that my purpose was to serve him, I didn't understand why he, a mage, would care about me so much. I couldn't grasp why he would lean upon me so much, not that I wasn't at all grateful, though I suppose, in a way, I wasn't. not like I probably should have been. I was lucky to even exist right now, knowing that Jeanne D'arc had died in a horrid way because of the fucking zealots that the church had, once praising her, then once she was called a witch killing her.  
  
What a joke.  
  
Looking at my Master as he gave me my outfit, my hands brushing along my body as I make it look slightly less wrinkled, I look at the girl in the mirror, staring at myself with pallid skin and yellow, piercing eyes, my clothes lose enough to feel comfortable, but tight enough to show off my figure. Perfect. Could I wear those shorts that Master bought me? Well...I could, but I'd rather not yet. I'll save those for another time.  
I put them back in the chest of drawers in the room that my Master had let me stay in, looking around at the room in general. It wasn't bare, per se; more like it was definitely more for guests than any regular visitor, or even a regular person who lived with my Master. He told me that this would be where I stayed until the Holy Grail War was over, but I wasn't sure how to feel about staying in this room that he lent me. Even if I didn't need sleep, it was nice to rest, though Servants don't dream. But if they did...what would I dream of...?

The sound of something clattering to the ground on the floor below made me tense up. I didn't feel any presence other than my Master, so perhaps...he probably dropped something, the idiot. He may be nice, but he's surely going to get himself killed at this rate. But...who knows? He may very well win, and I'd be quite impressed to see that.  
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the floor my room was on, before my Master called out, “Jeanne? Are you awake?”  
Sighing, I reply wearily, “One, don't call me that. Two,yes.”  
“Could you open the door please? My hands are full,” he asks, my curiosity at what he could have planned piqued. I step out of the bed I was lying upon and stroll over to the door, opening it to see Kalas with a tray and some pancakes upon a plate, as well as a glass of orange juice.  
“I, uh...I figured that, despite the fact that you don't need to eat, seeing as you're a Servant, I'd make you this,” he said, seeming to be eager to please me as I looked down at the plateful of food. I thought it looked quite good, but...he was right; as a Servant, I didn't need food. However...  
He looked so damn pleased with himself that I relented, taking the tray from him and placing it upon my lap. “Thank you...”, I muttered under my breath, which he seemed to appreciate quite a bit.  
“Need anything else? We're going to be going out and actively searching for our first opponent today, right?”, he asked me, his voice somehow still quite happy despite the heavy toll that someone was going to pay today. Someone _would_ die today, and hopefully whatever omniscient being above was watching sided with us.  
Looking at the plate of fluffy dough coated syrup before me, as well as the juice in the glass next to it, I pick up my fork and begin, looking up and noticing that my Master had gone already, which left me with a conundrum: I should close my door, but I'm comfortable here under my blankets...and he made me this food, so I want to finish it before I do anything else...

_Ugh...Master, why are you so careless sometimes...?_ , I think to myself, sighing as I think about how lackadaisical he was.

I continue to eat my breakfast, noticing that the pancakes have been made with what tastes like...I wasn't sure what to call it, but it didn't taste like anything I had eaten before. Frowning slightly, I note that it isn't inedible, especially with the sugary sweetness atop...syrup, I assumed.  
I finished sooner than I had anticipated, and felt a slight twinge of wishing I had a tiny bit more, unsure how to process this. Either way, I had finished, so I picked up the tray and placed it upon the floor next to me, pulling my feet out from under the blankets to close the door when my Master appears from nowhere and scaring the fuck out of me.  
“Jesus! Master, what the fu-”  
“You're done already? That was quick,” he said, looking at the tray on the floor and walking into the room to pick it up, my eyes naturally following him and realizing that he was waiting to take my dishes downstairs and wash them, I would assume.  
“W-well, erm...”, I say, unsure how to respond before thinking of a question: “Where's my stuff?”  
“The stuff I bought you yesterday, you mean?”, he asks me, standing up with the tray in his hands, adding, “I thought I gave the bag to you before you went to bed last night.”  
“My armor and stuff. Where'd you put it?”, I ask, more sternly, and he replies simply, “Ohhhhhhhh, _that stuff_ . It's in the foyer, don't worry about it.” Slightly less irritated than before, I sigh to myself and give him a resigned look. “You're so god damn... _ugh_ ...”, I say, moving past him and heading downstairs. “Whenever you're ready to get serious, we've got a job to do.”  
“I know, I just...”, he says, seemingly hesitating slightly. What the fuck was his deal? He was the one who suggested we start hunting Servants today, and now he was getting cold feet?!  
“I...just wanted to know if you liked what I made for you...”, he said sheepishly, and I felt like I had fallen out of reality and into some sort of nightmare where he was keeping me trapped here while trying to prove his affection for me, which I shuddered to think about. Fuck me sideways, why was he so _interested in me_ ??? In what universe is this ok?  
I sighed aloud before replying, “Yeah, I...guess they were good...”  
He smiles warmly, and I feel myself blush slightly. This Master, I swear to God.  
I step downstairs quickly, eager to get out of this house and into the foyer, beginning to pick up my armour before realizing that I wasn't in my normal clothes, but a comfortable set of pyjamas,, which means... _which means...!  
_ I am actually going to kill him before this war is over, God as my fucking witness.

After we had dealt with the fact that the mage had changed me while I was sleeping, the young man insisting that he just wanted to make me comfortable while I rained blows with my fists upon him and called him a dumbass stujerk idiot, we left his house in order to find the first Servant. It was easy enough for me; all I had to do was tune my senses to find nearby magical energy, and pinpoint exactly where the strongest energies were coming from. Simple.  
Breathing in through my nose, I closed my eyes and focused, trying to feel the nearest Servant in the area. I could feel my Master's energy coursing through him, and a general magical hum flowing through me and my surroundings. Hmmm...where could one be-  
“Oh! There's one by the harbour~”, he says, breaking my concentration, before I blink and ask, “Wait...which direction is that?”  
He points towards the south, towards a patch of buildings that block all chances of visual confirmation on my part, but...he was right. Of course he was, of _fucking_ course.  
“Whatever...”, I mumble, sighing. “You said he's at the harbour? Let's go then. We've got a Servant to kill.”  
“You're sure that you can take whoever it is?”, my Master asks, and I give a wicked smile.  
“Of course I can. I'm an A-Rank Servant. This first Servant is a _bitch_ compared to me.”

We arrived at the harbour, the midday Sun reflecting off of the waves of the ocean and making a spectacular backdrop for a day of bloodshed, one that would be happening soon.  
My footsteps upon the wood of the boardwalk creaked and groaned underneath my feet, stepping before the backside of a singular person looking over the water as the waves rolled and crashed against the docks, his old, wizened hands lying upon the guardrail of the walkway.  
“Do you know why I chose to find the Indies?”, he said to me, not turning towards me. “I wished to find spices, the ones from India, Pakistan, the most dank Eurasian valleys the Old World had ever seen. What a fool I was, searching for something the British had bought and sold countless times over. Bastards, the lot of them.”  
“I don't care about your stupid backstory, old man,” I say, my hand moving to my sword. “I just want to do what any Servant would do and kill you so my Master can have the Holy Grail.”  
“Hmmm...so, you're a Servant as well, are you? Well now, I didn't notice your magical power before, but now I can sense it clear as day,” the man replies, turning around with a smile, reaching for his sabre upon his side and drawing it. “Let's settle this then, warrior to war-”  
He was forced to deflect Jalter's first thrust with her flagpole, the woman following up by swinging it around and slamming the side into his chest, the air being knocked out of Columbus as he flew a few feet away across the boardwalk, the old man getting up with a loud grunt before brushing himself off. “Well then, I suppose I shouldn't take you lightly, woman,” he said, regaining his stance and rushing forwards, slicing at Jalter once he came close enough, every swing either deflecting off of her sword and creating sparks that flew into the air, or missing the woman completely. Jalter, however, was able to continue to deliver a pounding to the wizened Rider, her flag waving wildly as the sadistic woman grinned and slammed the flagpole she wielded against his body, hitting him all over before strictly swinging her sword for a more visual indicator of the damage she was dealing.  
“You look pretty shitty, you old bastard,” she taunts, pointing her sword at Columbus as he panted, coughing up a slight amount of blood from the blunt trauma that she had surely induced, a dark aura surrounding her. “With my next blow, I'm surely going to finish you off!”  
Huffing loudly, the sea captain looked with a venomous gaze at the Avenger, saying, “I'm...not down and out yet...!”, the magical pressure in the area rising as he unleashed his Noble Phantasm. _“At the end of beliefs and dreams, to the treasure of the New World!”  
_ “Tch-! You really think I'll let you unleash your Noble Phantasm, you woman-hating piece of shit?!”, Jalter yells out, dashing forwards and preparing her sword to stab Columbus through the chest. “Die, you bastard!”  
 _“Santa_ _Maria-!_ ”

Jalter's blade presses through the wizened adventurer's chest, stopping his Noble Phantasm dead in its tracks as he drops his sabre onto the wooden boardwalk with a loud _clang_ , Columbus' breathing heavy as he bleeds out through the wound in his chest. “Heh...so, you've bested me, aye? I suppose you think you've won, then?”  
“I have one question for you, seafaring bastard, murderer of millions-”  
“Heh. Have you not done the same, Witch of Versailles? Leading people to their deaths in the crusades? All in the name of your God, the voice in your head?”, he says, coughing loudly and spitting out blood as Jalter twisted her blade within his chest.  
“Where is your Master, Columbus?”, she asks, grinding her teeth in frustration. “ _Where are they?_ ”  
He chuckled to himself, “You think my Master is nearby, do you? You're a fool, Jeanne.”

In an act of anger, Jalter took the twisted blade and pulled it out of Columbus' chest, the blood-soaked blade sliding out rather easily as the seafaring Rider gave a loud, painful gasp, barely able to speak, though speak he did.  
“There is another Servant here,” he said, a wide grin upon his face.  
“Shut up,” she said, turning away from Columbus.  
“He's here for me.”  
“I said shut _up_ !”  
The sound of a bowstring being let loose cut the air almost as much as the arrow cut Columbus' head from his shoulders, blood cascading out from where the tendons and sinew had once been connected to the Rider's body, his head flying into the water, that which he had once had called home, his body toppling over as his blood poured out onto the boardwalk before he disappeared completely in a sea of gold, Jalter looking around bewildered before seeing the Alter Archer turning away with a smirk, leaping away as his job had been fulfilled.

“Dammit... _damn it all!!!_ ”, Jalter loudly yelled, kicking a trash can over in a fit of rage. “Bastard stole what was mine!”  
But...she had won, nonetheless. She was still breathing, and Columbus had been defeated, beheaded before she was able to deal the killing blow-  
 _But she had won nonetheless.  
_ Jalter, upon realizing this, took a deep breath in, chuckling to herself before pulling a cloth out of her belt, wiping her sword off before returning it to the scabbard that it belonged to, taking a slight satisfaction in the victory, as bitter as it may have been.  
Meeting her Master nearby, when he asked her how the battle was, she had simply replied, “I won. Of course. Did you have any doubts?”  
“No, God no,” he said, raising his hands in a defensive manner. “I simply wondered if you were alright.”  
Sighing with a huff, Jalter continued walking, albeit slightly faster, back to where they resided.

“Never fucking better.”


	3. Chapter 3

It's been about a week since Jalter fought Columbus, and she still seems pissed off that Emiya Alter took her kill. Personally, I thought it was a pretty easy win, myself, but she wasn't satisfied with that.  
 _“What do you mean, 'it's an easy win'?! If you think it's so fucking easy, try going out there and fighting to win by yourself, asshole!”_ , she had said to me a couple days ago, the firm tongue-lashing making me let her have her space, since we obviously differed on what we thought constituted a win.  
But that was fine; honestly, I didn't need to convince her what was or wasn't a good thing.  
In any case, we agreed that Emiya Alter was, for whatever reason, following us, but what could we do about it? He was masking his Spirit Origin somehow so that Jalter couldn't find her when he was in the area, which was something I pointed out to her, seeing as this was the second time he had been in the area and he had been there as well.  
“So what does that mean for us?”, she asked me, when I had brought it up, and I told her the truth: “I don't know, quite yet. But we've gotta figure how he's concealing his presence before we encounter him again and he kills me for real next time.”  
Grimly, she nodded. “I agree. I have a personal grudge against him for taking what's rightfully mine, after all, and he deserves to pay it back in full.”  
“We'll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I told her. “Right now, we need to focus on who'll be next.”

We hadn't spoken since then, and it was honestly worrying me just the slightest bit, so I knocked on her door to find it slightly ajar, opening the door with a slight “Hello?”, noticing her armor on her bed, which I took a look at.  
Her helmet, resting upon the pillow and casting a slight shadow upon the rest of the outfit, consisting of a set of half plate, bound by leather and steel and dyed the dark color that I knew well, lying upon the sheets of the bed that she slept upon since I had summoned her. I never did ask her if she was sleeping well, but maybe whenever I find wherever she was, I could ask how she was doing in that regard, turning around to see a towel-clad Jalter, shaking slightly as water dripped down her body from the shower that she had just gotten out of, her eyes seething with anger.  
I tried to speak and explain that this was all a misunderstanding, but nothing came out aside from random noises due to the shock of seeing Jalter's barely covered body. God, I forgot she was so curvy, somehow, but-  
Her fist slamming into my face caught me by surprise, knocking me onto the floor as she growled aloud, “Get out of my room.”  
“Jesus, Jalter, you don't need to-”, I began, cupping my hand under my nose in order to check if I was bleeding, and the warm liquid dripping onto my hand told me that I was, before she picked me up and threw my body outside of the door, screaming, “OUT!!!”, slamming the door behind her.  
Goddammit. This wasn't what I wanted, or expected, to happen. I wanted to apologize to her for what had just transpired...but the taste of copper in my mouth made me remember that she had just decked me in the face and tossed me out of her room, so I should probably tend to my bloody nose first.

Walking into the bathroom, I saw that she had not only busted my nose with her hand, but split my lower lip as well, though where the blood came out initially was hard to tell at this point. I grabbed a cotton swab, as well as some tissues, and pressed the tissue against my lip while wiping my bloody nose with another. Once the main problem had been stopped, I grabbed hydrogen peroxide and, wincing slightly at the thought, dipped a cotton swab on both ends and swirled it around in my nose, gritting my teeth with pain as the hydrogen peroxide disinfected the wounds, doing the same with a tissue for my lip, though my lip hurt slightly less so.  
Once that procedure was done, I tossed the used tissues and cotton swabs into the garbage and went back to Jalter's door, about to knock when I heard something I didn't ever expect.

I heard Jalter crying.

“Jeanne...?”, I asked, deeply concerned. “Are...are you ok?”  
“What do you want?”, she asked, sniffling slightly. “Are you gonna stare at my naked body some more while you think about your lustful fucking fantasies? Is that what you're gonna do?”  
“No, Jeanne, I didn't come to see you to do anything like that, I promise,” I say calmly. “I wanted to talk to you about a week ago. May I come in?”  
For a minute, silence. Then, the door opens, and she's standing before me, eyes red from crying as she stands in her pajamas, wiping her nose with her arm. “Sure, whatever.”  
I follow her inside, closing the door behind us. “No one must ever know I was crying, got it?”  
“Got it,” I say, sitting next to her.  
“Master, I need to ask you a really serious question, and I want the truth. No bullshit, no mage fuckery,” she says, looking at the floor in front of her. “Tell me...did you really mean to summon a Servant like me? Wouldn't the _real_ Jeanne d'Arc be better? I'm just...I'm just...”

_I shouldn't even exist._ _  
__I'm an anomaly of time, a woman that shouldn't know life, and yet, how is it that I breathe right now?I shouldn't know happiness or sadness, anger or joy, be able to pray or defy my God, but...here I am._ _  
__What are these feelings, these memories that are mine, and yet not? That bastard Gilles...he brought me to life with his twisted, perverted thoughts of what he felt I would be had I somehow survived that purging fire that had taken my former self's life. But who was he to have the right to do such a thing?_ _  
__If I see him again, his head is going on a pike, but for now...this Master puzzles me. He's treating me so nicely, despite my insults and my attacks against himself...why is he so complimentary towards me? Ugh, these feelings disgust me! I wish I could reach into my chest and tear them all out! I'm a Servant, nothing more, nothing less! I'm not a human! Not anymore. And even if I_ was _, who would I be, with the memories of a long-dead saint embedded in my head...?_

Sighing, I gingerly place a hand on her shoulder, which causes her to glare at me, but I follow up by saying, “If I didn't want to summon you, I would have had the option of dispelling you. But...I don't think I could ever do that, Jeanne.”  
She gives a heavy sigh, and nods. “Okay. Thank you, Master.”  
Nodding, I begin to stand up, but she grabs onto my sleeve, looking at the floor still. “Don't...please don't go...not yet. I still have more I wanna say.”  
I sit back down, and Jalter speaks her mind. “I...don't actually hate you, you know. I'm just angry that people keep abandoning me when I'm not exactly what they wanted me to be.”  
“They expect you to be just like Jeanne?”  
She nods. “But I'm not; I just look like her. I'm not supposed to _be_ Jeanne, I'm the exact opposite. And...the feelings I have are complicated; a muddled mess of my creator's ideals and the things that you allow me to feel.”  
“Je-”, I begin, catching myself and continuing, “Jalter, you're you. Nothing can change that.”  
“But who _am_ I? I'm not Jeanne d'Arc, I'm someone else, but I look so much like her!”  
Jalter feels me hugging her close, making quiet noises of shocked surprise.  
“I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. But I'm not a Master who just does as he pleases with you. We have a goal, and we have to work together to see it through.”  
I pull away from Jalter, tears welling up in her eyes. I smile at her. “I genuinely care about you.”  
“But why?”, she asks me, quietly.  
“I don't have a definite answer for that,” I reply, smiling at her. “But when I figure it out, I'll tell you, ok?”  
She nods, and looks at me with a death glare. “If anyone ever finds out about this, I'll kill you, got it?”  
“I wouldn't have it any other way,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss her forehead before she elbows me in the gut. “ _Don't_ ,” she says somewhat angrily.  
“Sorry...got carried away...”, I grunt out, one hand against my stomach. “Oof...we should find the next Servant, huh...?”  
Standing up, Jalter looks at her bed, looks back at me, and nods. “Understood, Master. My favorite kind of bonding.”

Minutes later, she was in her set of armor, the two of us ready to go, my instinct to look at Jalter as I thought about how conflicted she might feel about potentially harboring feelings for her Master, as doubtful as it might have been. It seemed like any and all shows of affection would be stopped with force, so maybe she wasn't wishing of them, or maybe, just maybe...she was scared. Scared to become attached to something in a world where her existence wasn't guaranteed. I hadn't thought of it like that, I realized, and figured that I should hold off until I was certain that the response would be a positive one, and not an elbow into my gut to cause me pain.  
“Master,” she says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I feel a Servant's presence about 5 miles away from here. It's faint, but the fact that I can feel it means...”  
“Yeah. They must be pretty beefy if they've got that kind of aura,” I replied, nodding. “Let's go. We've got a fight ahead of us.”


	4. Chapter 4

God, my Master can be so damn dense sometimes. He's an absolute fool, and he's going to get himself killed if I'm not around, I swear.

These were my thoughts as I put my armor on, piece by piece. The sheer thought of him attempting to get close to me was...it was a foolhardy path, that. Though knowing my Master, he would try to go along said path, all for the sake of showing me that he cared about me as a Servant. His hug was...warm, though. It was nice, calming, unlike the flames of the stake that raised me. But his attempt to further his affection was an attempt too far, so I did what had to be done. Was it too harsh? Possibly. Do I care? Not at the moment. We have bigger things to worry about.

Judging from the aura I could detect, this one was a Caster. They weren't something I couldn't handle; I'm pretty sure, aside from one particular nuisance of a Caster, that I could defeat them with relative ease, although if _he_ showed up as said Servant, then it would be...annoying, but still not really difficult. Most Casters aren't built for combat, after all, magecraft being their strong suit, and their defense was their weak point. Even the strongest fortress has a weak point, after all.   
Leading my Master towards the new Servant, we trek across the city towards a more rural area, with wide open fields and acres of farmland, mostly for crops, but also raising animals, such as cows, sheep, and especially-

“Pigs? Why are there so many pigs in the area, Jalter?”, my Master asks, a sigh of both exasperation and relief leaving my lips. This won't be hard, but I forgot that _she_ was also a particularly annoying Caster, at least in my case.   
“Master, I suggest you hide somewhere that the enemy Servant doesn't know where you are,” I say in response, to which I hear him begin to speak again before she lands before us, a slight smile upon her face whilst leading a parade of pigs.   
“Hello, fellow Servant,” she says, her voice sounding like a chorus on high, like audible silk passing through a person's eardrums. “You may be wondering where the farmers of the surrounding area have gone.”   
“Not quite, Caster,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Or should I say, _Circe_ , the witch who turned the men of Odysseus' crew into plump porkers, as the nature of man intended.”

“Hey...!”, my Master said in protest, Circe's face lighting up.  
  
“Oh my~ your Master is a man, yet you talk about me like I'm the villain here? Turning the disgusting pigs of this farmland into the animals they so easily slaughter?”   
“Then how did you survive, witch? How did you obtain sustenance to live?   
The Caster smiled wryly. “What would it matter now? All I need is mana, and killing your Master once he becomes a pig could be quite the meal, ahuhu~”   
“Keep your filthy hands _off of my Master!_ ”, I growl loudly, lunging forwards and swinging my sword, the other woman easily blocking it with her staff, a smirk crossing her lips as she bounded away. “Haha~ I'll turn your Master into a pig and make him my footstool once we're done here; unless he were to swear his undying love to me right here and now~?”   
I hear my Master scoff. “Not a chance, lady. You're an enemy, unfortunately, and if it means that I can't have you as well, then so be it.”   
“Ohoho~ you hear that, Witch of Orleans? He said if he hadn't summoned you, I could have been his true love! Oh, how scandalous, a Master and his Servant, falling in love for eternity!”  
My blood was boiling at this point. Him, with _her?_ Not if I could fucking help it.   
“You talk too much, Circe. Now come here so I may remove your filthy lying tongue!”, I roar out, dashing forwards and slicing at her, the blade sinking into her leg as she cried out in agony, the pigs converging beneath where she was going to fall as she crashed into them, bouncing and rolling off onto the ground, my feet landing nearby as I slowly walk forwards, the Caster trying to crawl away.  
“Please, please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to anger you, I was just being-”   
“Shut up!”, I interrupted, punching her in the face as she cried out in pain again before pointing my sword at the pig witch's throat. “Any last words, _whore_ ?”   
The tearful Caster looked up at me, shuddering and shivering as she knew that she was going to die by my blade and my hand.

Or, at least, that was the plan, if not for my fool Master.

“Jalter, wait!”, he said, coming from behind me. “Something's been bothering me, and I think this is the best time to ask.”  
“Are you kidding me right now?! We've basically won! All I have to do is end her!”, I say angrily, looking at him and seeing his pained expression. “...you don't want to kill her...”   
“I'm sorry, but...she's begging for it, I can't...I can't help it...”, he says, and I sigh, removing my sword from beneath Circe's chin.   
“You have been spared, for now, by the grace of my Master's will, though I prefer to call it bitching out,” she says. “Now stand up.”   
Circe, shaken but noticeably willing, does as she's told, the pain I had inflicted upon her evident in her wincing while she stood, leaning upon her staff while looking at my Master, curiosity in her eyes. “Is...is this not a Holy Grail War?”   
“I was wondering that myself, actually,” he says, which makes me turn to him in concern, that being the kind where I mouth 'what the fuck' to him, before he continues.   
“Jalter noted to me that, once we had nearly killed the Rider, another Servant came along to silence him. So that makes me think that...there are multiple mages working together in order to secure the Grail, and if so, that means that there's a group big enough to summon multiple Servants. So I want to ask you: who is your Master?”   
The Caster is silent for a few moments, gathering herself before answering. “I...I don't know. I was ordered by a group of other Servants to prepare for a Holy Grail War unlike any other. But other than that, I don't really know...I'm sorry, I'm still a little shaken...”   
“It's ok. You did well, you know,” my Master says, and I groan. How long was these niceties going to go on for...? I didn't know, and it continued in the worst possible way, with a single sentence:   
  
“How would you like to join me in figuring all of this out?”   
  
Was he serious? Servants can't just abandon their Masters, especially not without being noticed, and even if it wasn't noticed, then whoever it was that she belonged to would _eventually_ wonder where their fucking Servant up and went! They could just dispel the summon and be done with it!   
But despite that, I felt the empathy that my Master had for Circe, the sadness that filled him. He didn't want to kill, not because he didn't want to win, but because...because he didn't want to hurt people. But this was a war, and people die in war, something my memories showed me all too well.  
That said...it seemed like Circe wasn't wanting to die either.  
“I...”, she says, pondering the implications in her mind, looking at my Master with a soft smile before I lean in and seemingly scare her again. “I don't know...though I do not know who my Master is, I still fear them. They haven't used their Command Seals on me yet, but...who knows if they won't?”   
“I understand, Circe, but...sometimes the bravest thing to do requires the greatest sacrifice,” he responds, which seems to get a response from her, a single nod, before she stands and visibly swallows.   
“I will...do my best! For you, darling~ you let me live, and you have my eternal gratitude for that.”   
“Ehhh...we'll work on the darling thing, but for now, welcome to the team, I guess!”   
As Circe giggled, I couldn't help but feel a pain in my chest, just from the way Circe looked at my Master. Was this...? Ugh, great, feelings. And for my Master as well. Didn't I say something to myself about how feelings for a Master are never a good thing...?   
But it was unmistakable. I was jealous that Circe had feelings for him, and I knew that he wouldn't reciprocate, but...something had to be done.

Later that night, once Circe had been given a place to sleep (after she had gone on about how amazing and handsome and lovely the Master was, which boiled my blood further), I found myself before my Master's bedroom door in my nightclothes, wondering how I had ended up in this fucking situation, but deciding that it was better to accept it than complain as I knocked lightly upon his door.  
“Jalter...?”, came my Master's voice, making my heart skip a beat. Focus, dammit, focus! You're not some fucking maiden schoolgirl about to lose her virginity, you're just protecting your Master from the clutches of that possessive pig witch!   
“Yeah, it's me. Is that a problem, Master?”, I ask, slightly angry, to which he quickly replies, “No, no, God no! It's just...it's two o'clock in the morning, Jalter; not that it matters, I was just about to go to bed, but...anyway, what is it?”   
“May I come in?”, I reply, my hand upon the doorknob when I feel it turning in my hand, the door pulling forwards, and then-   
Him. My Master, the person who looks at me as a human being, despite some of our previous interactions. I'm pressed up against his chest from the door opening suddenly, a slight _oof_ emitting from my mouth once I slam against his body before I look at my Master, his face one of surprise.   
“Erm...Jalter...?”, he asks, his face turning red as he takes a step back. “What did you need, exactly?”   
I think about it, what I want to say. There are so many things that could be said, but right now, there's only one thing that I feel like he needs to know.

“I'm here to protect you, Master.”


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up the next morning, somewhat groggy as I felt too tired to get out of bed quite yet, rubbing my eyes gingerly as I stretched within the confines of the blankets when I felt something shifting next to me, squirming under the covers and clinging onto me while softly snoozing in her bedroom clothes, her yellow eyes half-opened as she did so.  
“Masterrrrrrrrrrrrrr...”, Jalter sighed, looking up at me as she sleepily spoke up, looking as cute as she sounded, “I don't wanna get up yet...five more minutes...”  
Sighing to myself, I cuddle into Jalter, petting her softly. “Hey now, Jeanne, I'm not going anywhere, you know that. Did you want me to make you-”  
Suddenly, the tender moment was broken by Circe bursting in. “Good _morning, Master~!_ Did you sleep well knowing that your darling was here for you now?”  
The room grew cold, and I felt Jalter digging her nails into my skin, a sharp gasp leaving my lips as she did so.  
“Master summoned me first, pig witch,” Jalter scowled, starring daggers at the colourful Caster, her body tense against me as she got out of the bed, looking ready to throw down with the lovey-dovey woman I had added to our team just the day prior.  
“God, please, don't hurt each other, you two,” I sighed, sitting up and properly stretching. “You're on the same side, aren't you?”  
“Yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't trust her around you, Master,” Jalter says, looking between me and Circe as she speaks, before Circe scoffs and walks away. “Whatever. I'll have him, one way or another, and there's nothing you can do about it, mark my words.”

Jalter visibly loosens up, though her fists stay clenched as she shakes in sheer, unbridled anger before walking down the stairs in a huff, leaving me unable to even attempt to fix what had just happened before me as I sat in my bed, wondering if I made the right choice in letting Circe join us.  
In any case, I took the time to get dressed, brushing myself off despite not needing to, and looked at myself in the mirror of my dresser, seeing someone who was unsure of what he wanted to do next, now that he had taken an enemy Servant in as his own instead of killing her like he knew he should have done. But...she sounded so scared to die. I couldn't live with that if I had let Jalter slice her head off, despite all the problems that have already become apparent. I just...I wouldn't be able to do it, I know that much.

After sorting myself out, I went downstairs to see what Jalter was doing, and couldn't find her on the main floor of the house, looking in every room and finding nothing, much to my dismay. Just when I was about to give up, I turned around to see her in the doorway, her eyes meeting mine at the same time as we stared at one another for a few seconds before she stepped forwards.  
“I'm...sorry about this morning, Master. I should have kept my composure, and I didn't. I let my emotions control me,” she says, looking at the floor slightly.   
I sigh, shaking my head and placing my hand upon her shoulder, to which she flinched but otherwise didn't react. “Jalter, you of all people should know that I trust your judgment. Though I wish you and Circe got along better, this is the first day that you've actually had to deal with one another in such close proximity, and I understand if her trying to win my affection pisses you off.”  
Taking a risk, I move my hand to her face, and to my surprise Jalter does nothing in response to that as well, leaving me silent for a moment before I see her look at me, and I continue. “Nothing that she does will make me look at you any differently than I already do now, alright? I promise.”   
She looks at me, scanning my face for any sign of a lie or weakness of any kind, and looks relieved to find nothing of the sort, and nods. “Alright, Master. I believe you.”   
I smile before I feel Jalter grip my wrist and pin me down against the ground by the arm. “But remember this: don't touch me unless you know you're allowed to. Get it?”   
“Got it.”   
She releases me, and walks away. “Good.”

We all sit together, eating our breakfasts in silence, the girls staring daggers at each other, Jalter wrapping her arm around mine as Circe crunches her cereal more forcefully.  
“So, uh...”, I say, hoping to get the pair back on track, “We have a Servant to take care of, don't we...?”   
“I'm killing this one, Master,” Jalter says, continuing to look at Circe. “This pig witch was one too many additional factors, I don't need you taking pity on yet another Servant and bringing them along with us.”   
“Oh, so you're saying that I'm a burden? We both know that I'm a _much_ better fit for our Master here-”   
“ _Our_ Master?!! Look at you, miss high and mighty, you weren't even _summoned_ by my Master, I was!”   
“Ladies, please, stop fighting! This isn't getting us anywhere!”, I say, Jalter sighing and saying, “Yeah...Master's right. So just for now, I'll work together with you. But so help me, if you so much as _breathe_ out of turn I will end you like I should have when I had the chance.”   
“Fine. We'll call a temporary truce, then,” Circe says, nodding. “For our darling.”   
Jalter let out an angry sigh of contempt but said nothing, sitting back down. “Now then, what were you saying, Master?”   
“Oh, uh...right,” I say, clearing my throat. “So, Circe marks the second Servant that we've bested, even if we didn't technically kill either of the Servants we've faced ourselves. That means this is number three, and uh...I feel like things are gonna get serious right about now, so we should prepare for anything at this point. That's, uh...that's about it.”   
Jalter speaks up. “So you're saying that you wouldn't have had the pig witch join us if you didn't think she wouldn't be useful in the coming battles...?”   
“Exactly. It wasn't _just_ me being merciful.”   
The Alter cracks a smile. “You know, the more I think I understand about you, the more of an idiot you sound like. Maybe that's why this situation interests me.”  
“In any case, do we know where the next Servant is?”, I ask, and Circe gives a response. “I can feel a faint response to the northeast, but...I don't know where exactly it is. I won't know definitely until we get closer.”   
“Alright. Maintain a watch upon the direction, I'm still pretty tired from yesterday. I'll be back in a bit, I'm gonna take a nap,” I say, getting up from the table and stretching while yawning.   
Circe glares at Jalter, but says nothing, a wry grin crossing the Alter's face as I walk out, hearing footsteps following me as I turn to see Jalter shaking her head.

“Bringing Circe with us is a major liability, you know that, right?”, she says to me, following closely behind me.  
“Of course. But we need a Caster to detect magical energy. I could do it, but I do it with more of a ping, which could send a signal to the enemy, and the last thing we need is them hitting us at home.”   
Jalter grimaces slightly, nodding, before jumping slightly as I ask, “By the way, why are you following me right now, Jalter?”   
She blushes and looks away. “I mean, I, uh...I wanted to make sure you're safe, that's all, Master!”   
“But I'm just going to my bedroom. I don't need to be protected.”   
“W-well, um, there's...something else I need...”   
“Oh?”, I ask, raising my eyebrow. “What is it?”   
I see her visibly shaking in her nightclothes, looking at me with a visibly worried expression, before she quietly says, “...m-mana...I need some mana...”  
“O-oh...”, I blush slightly as well. I had read that the simplest way to do a mana transfer was through what was called Spiritron Transfer, but...the most powerful mages did mana transfer through other, more direct manners. “Erm...h-how much did you need, exactly...?”   
“J-just a little, I promise! I'll be fine after I get some, I just need a pick-me-up!”, she says, a little too loudly.   
I stepped closer to her, looking directly at the Avenger as she blushed, and smiled at her. “Just a little, you say?”   
“Yeah, that's what I said! What are you, d-”  
Her voice was stopped by my lips meeting hers, my hands upon her hips as we kissed, one off my hands moving to her back to help stop her nervous quaking, her breath catching in her throat before I broke it off, wiping the drool from my mouth as she shuddered and shivered. “H-hey now, th-that's not-!”, she said, trying to say she didn't want a kiss but unable to bring herself to do so.   
“Huh?”, I say, smugly, knowing differently. “I thought you just wanted a mana transfer?”   
“Y-you..! I-I'm...!”, she said, even more flustered than before, stomping downstairs while muttering under her breath, “Idiot... _asshole_ ...stupid fucking... _rrgh_ ...”   
I sigh with a chuckle, getting back into bed once I had closed my door behind me, snuggling under the covers and falling into a deep sleep, though rest wasn't what was in store for me.

“Young Master,” a booming voice called to me from the dark reaches of my mind, my eyes opening to a swirling blackness before me. “Dost thou know of the tribulations that layeth ahead of thee?”  
“Uh...no, I suppose I don't,” I reply to the voice coming from the darkness, the sound of footsteps drawing ever closer to me.   
“Fate hath shown that you will befall many a trial, and though you will triumph through various means, your greatest trial will be against yourself,” the voice boomed, the footsteps closer with most every word that it spoke. “However, death will be around every corner. Dost thou believe that you have the strength, the courage to see thine journey through?”   
“I mean, I'm not surprised that death would be close-”   
“Closer than you may think.”  
The voice stops, as well as the footsteps, before another one comes from behind the young man, his head turning to see a tall, imposing figure enshrined by darkness, his eyes burning cold fire from beneath the skull that was his head, a long black straight sword embedded in the ground by the tip.   
“Know this, young Master: you will have to make a choice by the end of this journey, of whom it is you truly care for, between two very similar people that you are close with. One will die.”   
“By your hand?”, I ask, and he suddenly appears directly before me, the blue fire burning red hot.   
“Nay, child, by yours. I am Hassan-i-Sabbah, a Hassan that kills other Hassans. Shouldst thou need mine help, I will give it, your own fate willing.”   
The fire in his eyes returns to its normal blue, the figure pulling the sword out of the ground. “Shouldst we meet again, however, young Master, I will not hold myself back. My aim is true, and I do not miss a target, be they Hassan or otherwise. May you have eyes in the back of your skull.”

I awoke in a cold sweat, panting as the moon rose on the horizon, the final strands of the daylight fading into the dark bluish tones of the night while clutching my comforter. Was that a nightmare, or a premonition of things to come? I had no idea, and I didn't really want to know, looking in every corner for the man with the skull for a face, his cold eyes of fire staring into my soul and foretelling my death.

For the first time since the beginning of all of this, I was afraid.


	6. Chapter 6

I stormed downstairs after my Master had pressed his lips against mine, my mind running wild with imagery as everything within me made me want to go back and ask for more, even under the guise of asking for more mana from him, but...I couldn't do that. Even if I were to try and pretend, he would figure it out, I know it, so I'll keep silent. It's not like it would work anyway, right? A Master and their Servant? What a ridiculous notion; even a Master as caring and adoring of me, as doting of me as he is...he could never _truly_ love me for who I am. I am an anomaly of a historical figure, someone who does not exist in historical records. I...I don't deserve to be loved by a man like my Master. He deserves the real Jeanne d'Arc, but my heart won't let me let him go now, and with Circe trying to stake her claim on my Master, I can't let that happen. He deserves someone who will take care of him, someone who will watch over him and ensure that he is happy, everything that I am not. I am a destroyer, not a protector, but whenever I see his dumb happy face...I feel guilty. He's an idiot, a dumbass, a bastard, and yet...I can't help but think that he was doing his best. God damn him, God _damn him_ !  
Circe was another problem; I understand that my Master wouldn't want to kill the bird woman, but feathers are more useful than a bitch with boundary problems. She's always trying to make my Master adore her, for some reason, and I can't stand it for more reasons that...these stupid feelings for him.   
She's an enemy Servant, even if she's on our side right now; she could turn on us at any moment, and I don't trust her as far as she supposedly loves him. Fuck that pig bitch, she can roast like the pigs she makes, stupid goddamn-

_Ugh._ She pisses me off so much. I hate Casters so much.

Going downstairs, I come face-to-face with a new horror: namely, the pig witch talking to a busty purple-haired young woman who was grinning nice and wide. Ugh, I fucking knew it, I _knew it!_ _  
_ “CIRCE! WHO THE _FUCK_ IS THIS BITCH?!”, I bellow out, hoping that my Master didn't come downstairs and try to break the inevitable fight up, especially since this mysterious woman was here.   
“Ugh, calm down, _Thotler_ , “ she replied, looking at me with a glare. “This is a friend of mine, someone who my Master sent to help us.”   
“Your Master?!! You mean the person _my_ Master is trying not to be killed by?!!”, I said, flabbergasted. What in the fuck was going on here...?   
“No, you idiot. If you listen to me, I can explain,” she says, and I interrupt, “Well you better speak fast, before I burn this fucking house down and kill us all!”   
The purple-haired girl speaks up. “You don't have to worry your pretty little head about me, Jeanne Alter; I'm not a combat participant. In fact, I'm the overseer of this entire Holy Grail War~!”   
“Wh-”

“My name is BB! And I will be this Holy Grail War's referee! Hehe!”

“Hold on-wait a-hold up just a fucking minute here! What are you talking about?! BB, a referee?! Who the fuck thought _that_ was a good idea? Who wrote that shit down???”   
I was furious. This wasn't a fucking Holy Grail War; this was an absolute sham, but that also meant...my Master had no idea we weren't in an actual Grail War. He...he could…   
_He might actually get hurt if he goes into battle._ Oh God...oh fuck, he's just a dumbass, he'll get himself killed for sure...!   
“Do you even know what the fuck that means?! Answer me, you purple-haired slut! You dumb bimbo! You balloon-chested airhead motherfucker!”   
BB simply sighed, shaking her head. “Oh Jalter...you don't get it, do you? Poor girl. Do you know what he even _did_ to Avalon in the first place?”   
“Uh...wait, are you saying that-”   
“My master's name is Avalon. She sent me here to keep an eye on your Master, as well as you, though Circe is...a surprise. So this is where you ran off to, hmmm?”, the young woman says, smirking slightly, like she knew more than she let on.   
“Who the fuck...? You mean, Avalon, the girl that helped us at the Mage's Association?”, Jalter said, her mind racing. She seemed like a much more advanced mage than Kalas ever was, and that worried her more than anything else right now, the Avenger rushing upstairs to find her Master sitting up in his bed, sweating slightly and looking pale as she entered his room.  
“Master, are you ok...?”, I asked, worried that something had happened.  
“...Hassan-i-Sabbah...the Hassan who kills Hassans...”, he said, slowly calming down as he looked at me. “He came to me, in a dream. Said that I'd have to...to kill someone.” He placed his head in his hands. “I don't know if I'll be able to...”   
My heart ached for him, my feet seeming to move on their own, and before I knew it, I was embracing my Master tightly, the feelings in my chest making it hard to speak. “Master...”   
“Oh! So this is the Master you speak of~?”, BB says, peeking into the room and seeing me keeping him close, my voice coming out as a growl. “Got out of here, you bi-”   
“No. Let her in, Jalter,” I hear Kalas interrupt, which I visibly object to, but relent, scowling at BB the entire time, her face lighting up once she sees him.   
“Oh my _Gooooooooood~_ he's so cute! He's so cute, he's like a puppy, oh my God I could literally die!!!”, she says, her hands against her face in delight, my face dropping in disbelief. This girl...she changes her mind more than Mata Hari changed men…   
Suddenly, her fist came towards me, stopping before my face. “Master! Oh Master! I wish to play rock paper scissors with you!”   
  
“ _EH?!_ ”, both myself and my Master say aloud, our faces ones of complete disbelief as we make similar expressions, BB seeming completely serious.   
“C'mon! Best two out of three! Please?”   
I hear my Master sigh, and agree. “Alright then. Best two out of three.”   
“If I win, I'm the Master from now on!”   
“Wh-wait, what?!!”, he says, even more surprised than before. “I never agreed to this!”   
“Yes you did, when you said you'd play with me!”, she grins evilly, biting her lip ever so slightly. “Now you're locked into this contract with me, hehe~!”   
“Fine, then,” he agrees. “But if I win, you become my Servant, agreed.”   
“Sure. Fine by me. I'm probably gonna win. Now then…   
I clench my fist in front of hers, looking BB in the eyes as she wickedly grins, and we begin.   
“One...”  
“Two...”  
“ _Three!_ ”  
On three, we choose our hand positions, my open palm showing before her still-clenched fist, her shoulders lifting and falling as she chuckles to herself. “Alright, you won one. But that's the only one you're gonna win...!”   
I look her dead in the eyes again, but there's no smirk of confidence this time. She's completely serious, like she _genuinely_ expects me not to know what she's thinking. When it comes to rock paper scissors, I'm a master; out of the entire Mage's Association, the only person who could beat me was Avalon, back in our college days, and even then, it was basically 50/50 between us. BB would have to enact some sort of _miracle_ to-  
She throws Scissors. I throw Paper. My thoughts stop immediately, her grin having returned, albeit more wide than before, almost devilish in appearance. “So, you think you're hot shit when it comes to some rock paper scissors, huh? Well lemme tell you something, chump, and don't forget it: I know what you're thinking. I can see your next move plain as day. So you're gonna have to try harder than _that_ .”   
I swallow slightly. 1-1, all tied up. This next hand was the winner take all, it was for all the marbles, all the trading cards, for the bragging rights. This was it, and if I lost here…   
I turned to Jalter, and she looked at me, her yellow eyes staring back at me. They were full of concern, but she knows I'm able to do it. Her face, her resolved look, it fills me with something.   
Jalter's look of resolve fills me with determination.

I pull my fist back, as does the purple-haired babe, her eyes looking at me, and mine at her. We count aloud, together, as we prepare to see who was the Master, and who was the Servant.  
“One…”   
“Two…”   
“ _Three!!!”_

I watch my Master as he throws his final hand, BB going for paper, my Master going for…

And like that. It was over. I heaved a sigh. “Master...you absolute fucking idiot! Why would you trust that busty bimbo! That’s what BB stands for, don’t you know!”  
He just turns back towards me. “I mean...I won, didn’t I?”   
BB kept her knowing smirk, despite being the loser, sighing in defeat. “Oh dear. It seems that you have bested me at rock paper scissors... _Master~_ ”   
“Heh. Well, welcome to the team, BB. Glad you’re here with us,” he says, my hand smacking him upon the back of the head. “Oh my God! You added _another_ fucking enemy Servant to our ranks! What is your deal?!!”   
Rubbing the back of his head in pain, he replied, “Well, I figure that the more people we have on our side, the better, right? After all, BB’s just the judge of the Holy Grail War, right?”   
“But she’s a Moon Cancer! Only a Ruler can oversee a proper Holy Grail War!”, I say, frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me while BB was sucking up to the Master.  
“Oh, well, I was never told that you’d be so _handsome_ , Master~ had I known, I probably would have come along a lot sooner~”, she giggles, laying on the flirty vibes.   
“Permission to fucking obliterate BB, Master,” I say, getting ready to deck this bitch like the Titanic.

“Oh man, _someone’s_ real jealous that her Master’s a hunk of a man and attracting all the Servants, making them all hot under the collar-”   
“I’ll fucking do it, don’t make me flatten you, bitch,” I growl, clenching my fists and swiftly stepping forwards, releasing my Mana Burst in preperation. Circe got the hint, stepping out of the way completely as BB stepped back, smug as shit.   
“You think you can take me, huh? You, an Avenger? Against _me_ ? Oh that’s a fucking riot~ I’d wipe the fucking floor with you!”   
Kalas pressed his hand upon my shoulder. “Jalter, _enough._ You know better than this.”   
“She literally just invited herself in here! I don’t trust her at all! I trust her even less than I trust Circe!”   
“Hey~”, the pig witch smiled, happy to hear Jalter say that, before she continued, “That said, I still don’t trust you, Circe, don’t even try it.”  
Sighing, Jalter turns around and walks into her room. “Whatever. Have you damn harem. Who cares. I sure don’t.”   
  


I closed my door behind me, locking the door before he could come after me and try to explain, tears streaming down my face as I realized that, despite everything, all he wanted was to surround himself with nothing but pretty girls and make himself feel good for being such a fucking lifesaver.  
I sat on the edge of my bed, looking at my closet before going inside and grabbing the Hot Topic bag that Kalas had given me on the day he summoned me here, reaching inside and grabbing the first thing that I felt, pulling out the “Art Thou Nasty” shorts that he had given me.   
God, what an idiot I’ve been. All this time, he only looked at me as an attractive woman, and not as a Servant. But I should have realized what it was about. So fuck it; he wants me to be that way around him, I’ll put on the damn clothes and act the way he wants me to.


	7. Chapter 7

The game of rock-paper-scissors was one that I won, but...at what cost? Jalter, at this point, hasn’t come out of her room in a couple of days, never seeming to even leave her room at this point. I know she doesn’t need to eat or anything, but...I’m getting really worried about her. I really fucked up with her, and it wasn’t even my fault.  
“Don’t worry, Master, I’ll make sure you’re well-protected!”, BB told me yesterday after Jalter had left the conversation. But I wasn’t having it; I told her that if she was just going to cause issues with my Servant and Circe, then I was better off without her. BB seemed taken aback by that, but simply frowned and went downstairs, away from myself and Circe.   
  
“I...I don’t really like her, Master…”, the Caster said, looking down at the floor, before looking up at me. “You’re...really worried about that dragon witch, aren’t you?”   
I nod, looking at the door she had slammed closed behind her. “Yeah. But I don’t think now would be a good time to approach her. I’m worried, but she needs time to figure out what she wants to do right now.”   
Circe is silent for a minute, before smiling at me. “You know, Master...you’re the first mage I’ve seen that cares about Servants like they’re actual human beings.”   
“That’s because you are- or, rather, you _were._ You all had thoughts, hopes, prayers, and dreams at one point.”   
“Even I, a character in a story?”   
“Even you, Circe, pig witch, daughter of Helios, and aunt of Asterios. You may not be my love, but you are certainly welcome in my home.”   
Circe looked up at me with an ecstatic look, her voice full of adoration. “I...I’m...excuse me, Master, I need to process all of this.”   
I nod, and she proceeds to kiss my cheek, blushing profusely as she walks away, my cheeks heating up as well.  
But I was serious in my conviction: none other than Jeanne Alter would be welcome in my heart. I was far too invested at this point to lose her so easily, so I did what I thought was the right thing.  
  
I walked up to her door, gently knocking upon it. “Jalter? Are you there?”   
“Yeah, I’m here,” came her voice, somewhat cheery and out of place for the Avenger. “What’s up, Master?”   
“Uh...can you come out for a minute? I wanted to talk to you about-”   
Her door was open before I even had the words out of my mouth, my mouth slack with disbelief as she stood before me in a Death tarot card graphic tee accompanied by a navy blue zip-up hoodie and a pair of booty shorts, the words “Art Thou Nasty” printed upon the backside as she looked at me with a grin.   
“Hey,” was all she said, her smile one of knowing full well what I had wrought.   
“Uh...h-hey...are you, um...ok?”   
“Are you kidding? I’ve never been better! I feel great! God damn, I’ve been wanting to go out and kick someone’s ass for a couple days now, and BB got me all kinds of pissed! So let’s kill some enemy Servants, Master!”  
I sighed, somewhat relieved. At least her demeanor hadn’t changed. But…   
“Where’s your armor?”, I ask, slightly confused.   
“Don’t worry about it, it’d slow me down anyway,” she said, her mouth moving sideways to signify her refusal to answer.   
“Alright then,” I replied, and turned to leave before I felt something pull me back by my hand, turning to see Jalter gripping onto it with both of hers as she looked down at it. “Master…”  
“Y-yes?”   
She looks up at me, and I see her face had dropped, her previous excitement a facade for me not to worry about her. “Do you...love me…?”   
I feel my heart, and all of time, stop for just a moment, as my brain tries to process what she had just said, barely able to swallow as my chest becomes tight. It triggers a memory in my brain, one that I had buried long ago, and I feel myself collapse, Jalter’s face the last thing I see before everything goes dark.   
  
  
“Do you love me?”, she asks, and I jump, slightly surprised.  
We were simply studying together one day, before our final tests to become fully-fledged mages, and she just...pops that question out of the blue? What the hell was she thinking?   
I sigh and chuckle softly. “We should be studying, Avalon.”   
“Yeah, but...I want to know. For science.”   
“Uh-huh, and then you’ll go off again about how you want to have magical babies with a dragon or something of the sort-”   
“Hey, listen, I don’t judge _you_ for your taste in wives, now do I?”   
“Yeah, but at least I have a _basis_ for my desire in women! You seem to only want the most absurd stuff! Dragons, the fae, Cthulhu- honestly, how did you think that I wouldn’t ping you for _Cthulhu?!_ ”   
“Yeah, but...tentacles...you’re not answering my question, Kalas!”   
I rest my head against the wall I was sitting against with a sigh. “Fine. Theoretically, let’s say I did feel that way about you. What then?”   
“Well, theoretically, what if I said I felt the same?”, she replied, making me blink somewhat.   
“Er...well, theoretically, if we did feel the same way in that sense, then-”   
“ _And,_ theoretically, what if someone wanted to know because she wanted to forget about the tests coming up and do something a little wild for a change?”, she continued, getting closer as she did so.   
“...this isn’t theoretical, is it?”, I smirk, closing the book in front of me and placing it aside, and Avalon sits in my lap facing me before kissing me, biting her lip as she takes her top off for me to see her bare chest.   
“You tell me, magic boy~”

I groggily woke up, seeing someone in my blurred vision as I came back to, Avalon’s name sleepily coming out of my mouth before I blinked a couple more times and saw Jalter, back in her regular outfit again. “Master...are you ok?”  
I sit up in my bed, pressing my hand against my forehead. “How long was I out…?”   
“A couple of hours. Nothing serious.”   
“Ah.” It was all I could muster at the moment, my head still a fog from the dream I had just endured. God...I really used to love that witch, huh…? Now she’s ruined everything I worked for with her, all for a bit of petty revenge. She always was a fanatic for the Root, obtaining access at any cost.  
“Jalter, do you still want to…?”, I ask, and she takes a moment to answer.   
“I...I’m not sure. If you wish to begin, then I will do as you ask, but if you wish to stay here and rest, then I do not mind waiting another day before we begin again.”   
“Very well, then. Feel free to do as you please, then.”   
I hear Jalter go to say something, but she falls silent, instead leaving the room as I rest, the soft sound of bare feet sticking to the floor with every step keeping me from sleeping fully as it gets louder, when suddenly I feel someone getting into the bed with me, my eyes opening to see Jalter in front of me, her arms reaching around me in order to cling onto me as I sleep.   
“Jal...ter…”, I sigh, falling back into my slumber, this time protected by the woman I adored with all of my heart.   
She brushes my hair as I am lulled into my slumber, her fingers dancing through my hair and along my back as I fall back into my sleeping state, this time without any dreams to note.

I awoke nestling against Jalter, her arms wrapped loosely around my neck, her eyes closed as she slept next to me, looking so peaceful, almost as heavenly as her Ruler counterpart.  
I stared at her for just a minute, enjoying the sound of her breathing as she slept before she opened her eyes and stared right back at me. “Mmmm...good evening, Master. Did you sleep well…?”   
“I did, thanks to you. You’re always so protective over me, you know that?”, I say, to which she replies, “Is that a bad thing?”   
“Not at all,” I chuckle slightly. “It’s honestly cute.”   
She blushes softly before sitting up and rolling out of the bed. “I should return to my room for the rest of the night. The moon is quite low in the sky, rising from the primordial sea. We should get an early start tomorrow, in that case. Unless you want to try hunting a Servant at night?”   
“Well, I mean...do you even need to sleep?”, I ask her, to which she slyly smirks at me, which more or less answers my question as I get out of bed and get ready to go out with my Servant, jogging downstairs once I ensure Jalter was ready to leave at a moment’s notice. “Circe,” I say as I head down to the living room where the Caster was staying, walking in on her watching late night television, “Are you able to detect any nearby Servants?”   
“Hmmm...yes. There’s one...no, three nearby! All within the same vicinity!”  
“Wha-?! Three of them? All together?”   
She nods. “There’s no doubt in my detection that there are three Servant signatures, all within a 5 mile radius, and they’re all clumped together for some reason. Perhaps they’re fighting?”  
I nod, petting Circe and causing her to blush slightly. “Thank you, Circe. That will be all. Just tell us what direction to go and we’ll be off.”   
“I...I want to come with you all!”, she says, surprising me and causing Jalter to roll her eyes, responding with, “We can’t take you. Even if you _didn’t_ get in the way, you’re our best shot at finding other Servants, and despite my better judgement...we need all the help we can get.”  
“But surely you can’t mean to take them all on at the same time by yourself! You’ll die!”, Circe says, sounding genuinely worried, to which Jalter sighs once again.   
“Fine. We’ll take you,” she says, before feeling another hand pressed upon her shoulder, a pair of sizable breasts pressing against Jalter’s back as BB smirked. “Ohoho~ leaving without me, are we? How unfortunate that I just so happened to come along this very second~”   
“I hate you so much,” Jalter says darkly, grinding her teeth together before pushing the purple-haired gremlin away from her.  
“Well, I guess we’re all going, then,” I say.   
“Looks that way,” Jalter says, looking at me and smiling slightly. “I hope you know how to handle all three of us at once.”   
“Oh myyy~”, BB interjects, narrowly avoiding Jalter’s fist aiming for her face. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jalter says, “Did I give you permission to speak, bitch? No? Then shut the fuck up and do as you’re told.”

I sighed to myself as we exited the house. This was going to be an interesting battle, I could feel it.


	8. Chapter 8

I didn’t expect that my Master would want the help of that bitch BB, but I agreed with his stance; if there were 3 Servants in the same area, then we had to make sure that the odds were on our side, or at the very least even. At this point, trusting Circe was my best bet, despite our differences, since I knew she was acting with Master’s interests at heart, but that purple-haired bitch had literally played rock paper scissors with him just to turn around and say that she was one of his Servants as well. I didn’t like it, and even if I wanted to change class, just for a moment, it wasn’t worth dying over a little bit of jealousy.  
I didn’t feel like the odds were in our favor, but knowing we had a Caster, that was one class we could mark off the list, and as for the Rider, we could mark that off as well. Other than that, I had no idea, though the sinking feeling in my stomach told me that Archer bastard would be there.   
What could be in store for us, I wondered, the sound of the group’s footsteps echoing out around us as we ventured forwards towards the enemy, my Master backing all of us up as we walked into what was surely a trap; we had a plan for that contingency, though.  
My senses were on high alert, awaiting the first call to action.”Circe,” I asked, “How much further until we encounter the Servants?”   
“Hmmm…”, she says, feeling the enemy Servants for their magical energy before replying, “Another half a mile or so, maybe less.”   
“Alright, so what’s the plan? Can you figure out their Classes or anything, since we’re closer?”   
She shakes her head. “Unfortunately no, otherwise this would be a lot easier.”   
I sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “Alright, then, here’s the plan: Master, you direct us otherwise if conditions change, but seeing as this is a 3 on 3 fight, we need to play to our strengths; Circe should fight at a distance, since you can’t take as much of a physical beating as me or BB. As for her…”   
I glare at her, but say, “Stick with me, but stay ahead. If you really are on our side, then consider this the best time to prove it.”   
“Can do, _mon capitaine~_ ”, she says, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes once more.   
“Alright, we have our roles,” I nod, looking at my Master for approval, and he nods back, looking more serious than usual. He must understand the concentration it’s going to take for all of us to get out of this in one piece. “Let’s make these Servants wish they’d never been summoned!”  
  
As we walk forwards, I sense myself becoming uneasy, wondering if I would be able to make it out of this alive, but my Master’s hand on my shoulder made me feel a lot better than I would have without it, my hand gripping onto his as I looked at him, his nod of determination pushing me forwards towards the trio of Servants before us.  
Suddenly, I heard Circe cry out, “Enemy Servants, dead ahead! They’re closing in fast, too!”   
“Shit! They knew we were coming!”, I cry out, gripping onto my Master and picking him up onto my shoulder before dashing to the side, a massive explosion happening where myself and the other Servants had been standing just a couple of seconds before, my eyes scanning the horizon to see him.  
That Archer bastard that I knew would be here, gliding over myself and my Master as he nocked another arrow against the bowstring, aiming directly at my Master as I grit my teeth. _Fuck! This is not how I imagined it would go at all!_   
Suddenly, I saw a large bolt of magical energy slam into Emiya Alter’s chest, blowing him back into a nearby building with a loud, thunderous crash, sliding across the dirt before Circe ran up and helped me up, Master standing up with us.   
“There’s nowhere for you to hide, Master Kalas”, the Caster says, panting slightly. “We’ll have to protect you on the run, they’re far too mobile for you to do otherwise.”   
“Well besides Emiya Alter, who is there?”, he asks, and Circe grimaces.   
“We have a Saber, a Lancer, and an Archer. You’ve seen the Archer already, but BB is currently dealing with the other two by herself.”   
“Are you serious?! We have to go help her!”, he says, racing off to find BB before Circe pulls him back as the purple-haired Moon Cancer gets slammed into another nearby building, rubble falling from overhead as the Servant dismounted from her snorting horse, gripping onto Rhongomyniad to finish BB off, the busty woman coughing up a slight amount of blood.   
“You fought well, and I will commend you for making it this far,” she said, pulling her arm back to deliver the finishing blow as my Master and I watched. “But this...is your end.”   
“Not if _I_ can help it,” BB says, dodging the spear’s thrust and launching herself in a shoulder tackle against the Alter, surprising her and making Altria adjust her footstance in order for her to escape to a better tactical position as well.  
“Master, we should follow her!”, Circe says, the young Master shaking her head.   
“Let her go, it’ll give that Lancer a distraction, so long as we stay here,” he says, the Alter remounting her horse to chase after BB, the clopping of hooves upon the asphalt becoming quieter as we move in the opposite direction, searching for the final Servant we hadn’t found yet.   
  
Following Circe’s lead, we ran to a seemingly vacant warehouse, which Circe guaranteed held the Saber within.   
“Be careful, Master...she’s not weak by any stretch of the imagination,” she told me and Jalter before we entered. “I can feel her energy pulsating, almost like a heartbeat. The energy she gives off is...terrifying.”   
Jalter simply grinned in response. “Good thing I’m _more_ terrifying to most people.”   
Circe said that she would wait outside in case BB and the Lancer Alter showed up again, which seemed to worry my Master, but she simply smiled and said not to worry about her.   
“I’ll hide nearby, I promise. I’ll be fine. Thank you for worrying so much about me, though, darling~ perhaps this is l-”   
At that point, I pulled him inside the building, the lights within dim before they suddenly flashed on, the fair-skinned Saber before us wielding a multi-colored sword.   
I grinned at the other Servant, calling out, “Hey! You wanna fight? Come get me, then! I’m not afraid of a punk-ass bitch like you, trying to scare me with dramatics! That doesn’t win fights!”   
“This isn’t a fight,” the Saber states, which catches me off-guard. What did she mean, this wasn’t-   
Suddenly, I see her dash forwards with incredible speed towards my Master, but I trip her up with my flagpole. This doesn’t seem to deter her, however as she simply flips forwards and slashes her sword down, my own sword meeting hers and parrying it away.   
“Get the _hell away from my Master_ !”, I growl aloud, feeling an anger well up inside of me, using my sword and slashing towards her, the nimble woman seeming to dodge and parry my every blow with amazing precision, the expression on her face unchanging from the resigned stare she gave me as I attempted to defeat her.   
“This isn’t a fight,” she repeated, parrying my thrusting flagpole before slamming her flat palm into my chest to disrupt my balance. “This is the destruction of bad civilization. You are bad civilization. Your Master is bad civilization. And therefore-”   
Her red eyes flashed with a glint of power, her mana levels rising intensely. She was preparing her Noble Phantasm.   
“I won’t take life. I’ll only destroy your civilization.”   
Pointing her sword directly at me, the energy she was generating swirled around the blade like a vortex, creating a phantasmal drill around it which filled me with a feeling I hadn’t felt often, and the other me only really felt once.   
_Fear.  
_ Was I actually going to be able to block this? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if I could, and I wasn’t even sure if I could tank a drill of mana slamming directly into me, watching as she readied to release her Noble Phantasm-   
_“...Photon Ray!!!”_   
-and she passed by me completely, aiming for my Master. I hadn’t noticed her feet changing position to dash towards my biggest weakness, time slowing down as I watched her inching ever closer to him, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening.   
My heart thumped within my chest.This was it. This was the end. This was how I failed my Master; not due to an error in my judgement, but an error in assuming that I would be the easier target. This was the end of the line for me and my Master. Or so I thought, a voice ringing out clear as day, a rejuvenating energy coming over myself as I heard a voice I hoped to never hear. 

_“Luminosite Eternelle!”_

As the crackling power of the enemy Noble Phantasm came to a halt, I saw her, standing before my Master, his slackjaw expression of awe filling me with a sense of seething rage. _She_ had saved him, and not _me.  
_ The Saber took one look at the blonde Ruler in front of her and, without hesitation, said, “Ah, I see. So this is what the Master intends.” She then turns to Kalas and says, “I thought your civilization would end today. But it appears my Master wishes to spare you, at least for now. But know this: Altera will destroy all bad civilization, including your own, some day.”   
She then dashes out of the warehouse and out of view, leaving me, my Master, and the blonde bitch that had just saved us, my Master breaking the silence.   
  
“J-Jeanne…”


	9. Chapter 9

I couldn’t believe it.

I never thought that I would meet the original Joan of Arc, the peasant girl who led the French to victory in the Hundred Years War before being captured, persecuted, and burned at the stake for being a witch despite hearing the supposed word of God. But here she was, her long blonde hair hanging behind her in a large knotted braid, her backless dress showing the Command Seal of her Master, a flowing fleur de lis that was unlike any I had ever seen before.  
“J-Jeanne…”, I said, surprised that she was here. Wasn’t BB the one presiding over the Grail War? Or had she lied about that…?”   
Turning towards me, the blue-eyed beauty smiled. “Hello, Kalas. I’ve been meaning to meet you and my Alter for some time now, but never had the opportunity before now.”   
I hear Jalter scoff from behind me, evidently angry with the fact that we were saved by her other half, but Jeanne simply sighs. “I suppose you’re wondering what led me here, yes?”   
“Well, actually, there’s a lot I’m curious about right now,” I said, stepping back from the holy woman to stand near Jalter in order to calm her down slightly, the tension in the air still quite high. “Namely, how do I know that we can trust you? How do we know that you didn’t just save us from Altera to kill us?”   
“I certainly understand your position, Master Kalas, but please, allow me to explain,” Jeanne says, her stance unwavering as she speaks. “I saved you because that is what a Ruler is supposed to do during a Holy Grail War; they see over everything and ensure that the rules are being followed, and right now, none of them are; this is absolute chaos, pure and simple. However…”   
She looks at me, her gaze almost piercing through me. “This isn’t a true Holy Grail War.”   
I went to speak, but Jalter does before me. “Wait, what the hell does that mean? Are you telling me that all these other Servants are just here running amok, that I was summoned for no real reason?! What the fuck are either of us _doing_ here, then?!!”   
“Well, that’s the thing,” Jeanne replies, as I press my hand upon Jalter’s shoulder, her hand brushing my own off. “While this isn’t a _typical_ Holy Grail War, it _is_ a Holy Grail War. It’s just not between as many Masters, nowhere near, actually.”   
“How many are there, then?”, I ask, and she replies with an answer that makes my heart stop momentarily.   
“There are two Masters, yourself, and the one called Avalon.”

“A-Avalon…? She’s my opponent…?”  
Jeanne nods. “She was chosen, just like you, to represent herself for the chance of obtaining the Holy Grail. She was able to begin the war by summoning herself a Servant once her Command Seal appeared, though I don’t know exactly when that may have been.”   
“How do you know all of this, you Ruler bitch?”, Jalter interrupts, and Jeanne simply answers with, “I’m a Ruler; I keep balance in this Holy Grail War, even if it is unusual for there to only be a pair of warring Servants. I’m not sure how she was able to prevent anyone other than you two to be in this, but rest assured, I will ensure nothing is out of line, or that she is not doing anything that you would not be able to.”  
“I don’t trust you, Ruler,” Jalter says. “If I was able to be summoned as a combatant, then that means _you_ were able to be summoned as a combatant, and I don’t think I have to tell you what that entails.”   
“I understand your concern, Alter, but I assure you,” she reiterates, “I don’t wish you any harm. I swear it upon my name as a saint.”   
With a resigned sigh, Jalter relents. “Fine...whatever. I suppose you’re better to deal with than that ice queen bitch.”   
Laughing slightly, Jeanne smiles at the Alter. “Yes, I can certainly understand why you wouldn’t be too keen on working together with Saber Alter again. But in any case, I’ve been here for far too long. I need to deal with that troublemaker BB, and see if I can’t get her to exit this Holy Grail War.” Jeanne shook her head, sighing to herself. “She’s quite tiring, that one…”   
“Finally, something we can agree on,” Jalter says.  
I go to ask something else, but I hear the familiar sound of an arrow being shot from a bow, Jeanne deflecting it deftly as Emiya Alter slams into the ground, standing up before myself and the two Jeannes, a wry smile upon her face.   
“Well now, what’s this, then? Looks like two Servants and a bitch, haha. Good thing I’m here to clean up; I figured Altera had this, but it seems we messed up with the Ruler showing up.”   
Gritting her teeth, Jalter gripped the pommel of her sword, her body seething with rage. “You…!”   
“Jeanne, please, you have to help us!”, I beg the blonde woman, her face one of indecision and regret as she says, “I’m sorry, but I can’t interfere this time. When it was three on three, I could, but this is different. Please believe me.”  
“Useless slut!”, Jalter roars out, unsheathing her sword and rushing towards the enemy Alter, Emiya’s chuckle driving Jalter into a semi-Berserker frenzy as her sword strokes become more powerful than deft, the rage she felt of being denied the pleasure of ending his life all the more bitter as Emiya Alter kept dodging her attacks.   
“Come on! Aren’t you supposed to be a top tier Servant, you emo bitch? Where’s your spunk, hmmm? Where’s the spark that lit the fire within you?”, he taunted her, Jalter’s reaction to release her Noble Phantasm and set the interior of the warehouse on fire.   
“Shit!”, I cried out, rushing to the exit of the warehouse, feeling the air near my head being cut by the buzzing of an arrow past my head, Emiya Alter diving from the rafters where he had been taunting Jalter from towards me, an arrow nocked and pulled back, a wry smile on his face, when suddenly Jalter leapt up and thrust her flagpole directly into his midsection, the pointed tip exiting out through his back as the Archer Alter screamed out in pain, blood streaming down the man’s back as she pinned him to the warehouse wall with her flagpole and drove it deeper into him.   
“Jalter!”, I called out, the woman too enraged to hear me as she unsheathed her sword slowly, the flames surrounding the pair and preventing me from seeing them, the last thing I saw of her being her arm lift back before it swung, a large trail of blood shooting up along the wall once they had gone out of sight.   
“ _JALTER!!!_ ”, I screamed out, the flames enveloping the building as Jeanne stood behind me, her hands upon my shoulders as I shook in fear, the sound of shattering glass on the other side of the warehouse making me tense up as I looked up at the flaming building, Jeanne Alter flying out of a skylight and falling to the Earth as she screamed out, her face full of fear as she had never really thought about her escape plan further than “jump out window”.   
She slammed into me full force, her body slamming into me as we skidded across the ground in a heap onto the grass, stopping about thirty feet away from the warehouse as it burned to the ground, the metal buckling from the melting heat and collapsing completely, the roof compressing the walls underneath it as myself and my Servant sat up once it had fallen, blinking a few times in relief before realizing how tightly myself and Jalter were holding onto one another, my head turning to face her and apologize before we heard a loud crash, the bloody body of Emiya Alter stumbling towards us.   
“What the _FUCK_ ?!”, Jalter cries out in utter disbelief, the man’s crazed expression clear as he shambled towards us, flames erupting out from his back as his clothes slowly burned off of his dying body, his arm extending outward as he growls out, “ _I am the bone of my sword, so as I pray..._ ” the gun in his hand discharging a single bullet aimed for me, Jalter moving to protect me before I see someone else jump in front of it, her pink hair unmistakable as I watch the bullet slam into her, the woman’s body sliding along the ground as with Emiya Alter’s last breath, he says, _“Unlimited...Lost Works…!”_ , and I watch as swords come out of her body bathed in her blood, the Caster coughing up even more as she lies on the ground dying, Emiya Alter laughing with a cruel smile upon his face before he finally dies.

I push Jalter off of me, rushing over to the dying Servant. “Circe! Circe, say something, please!”  
With blood trickling from her mouth, she turns her head weakly towards me, her hand pressing against my cheek as a single tear falls from her eyes. “Darling...you’re alright…”   
“Circe, hang on, please, I can save you, I know I can, just hold on, I’m begging you…!”   
“It’s ok...you don’t have to keep me...I’m just glad that you’re…”   
She doesn’t finish her sentence, Circe’s hand falling limply to the ground as her eyes close, a smile on her face as she dies in my arms.   
“Circe...Circe!”, I call to her, feeling myself starting to cry as I feel my body shake from the overwhelming trauma of losing the Caster. _“Circe!!!_ ”   
“So, um...I guess now’s not a good time to return, then?”, I hear BB ask, Jeanne going to reprimand her as I simply kneel there holding Circe’s body in my arms, the Caster looking peaceful, like she was sleeping and going to wake up, despite never doing so ever again.   
I felt myself shudder with a deep sadness, crying out in agony as Jalter stood back, unsure how to comfort me other than being there as I sobbed loudly, crying and screaming about the innocent Servant that had protected me, even after everything that I hadn’t done for her.   
I thought about how I had simply brushed her calling me darling as a quirk that was a part of her being a Servant, but I realized that it was also her truly caring about me as her Master, and that she had been willing to sacrifice herself in order for me to live.   
Sniffling, I gently lay Circe upon the ground and stood up, wiping my eyes with my hands before looking around and seeing that it was only me and Jalter before the slowly dying warehouse fire. “Where’s...where’s Jeanne and BB?”   
“Jeanne pulled BB off by the hair in order to discipline her, so she said,” my Servant said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Are...are you alright?”   
“I mean...I’ll be fine, I think. I’d be far sadder if I lost you, though,” I said, and Jalter replied with a slap to the face.   
“H-hey! What the fu-”   
“That’s _not_ what I asked you, Master. I asked if you were alright,” she says, looking at me with a deeply concerned look.   
I sigh, looking at the ground. “I didn’t ask for Circe to do that. I honestly thought I was going to die, despite the multiple times I almost _did_ tonight. But...I never expected this, Jalter.” I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t expect this at all.”   
With the battle concluded, the body of Emiya Alter a smouldering pile nearby, I looked up at the sky, the full moon above myself and my Master, I looked at the worried man as he thought to himself, before he spoke. “Jalter?”, he said to me, coming from behind as I turned to him, his face layered with worry. I knew just from the look in his eyes that he worried about me, just like he had when I had first been summoned, just like when all seemed lost and I thought that I would lose him. The more I looked at him, the more my heart burned with anxious longing for my Master, and so I did what my body and mind wanted to do.  
Using some of the remaining mana I had within me, I changed my outfit, just for him, from my armoured form into something far more attractive: a backless blue dress, one that accentuated my body's natural curves and clung to them, a smile crossing my face as I saw my Master react in pure amazement. “Well?”, I said coyly, reaching out my hand to him, gloved palm outstretched as he shakily takes my hand before I pull him in close, softly singing loud enough for the both of us to hear:

_Mama, we all go to hell_

_Mama, we all go to hell_

_I'm writing this letter and wishing you well_

_Mama, we all go to hell_

_Oh well now, Mama, we're all gonna die_

_Mama, we're all gonna die_

_Stop asking me questions, I'd hate to see you cry_

_Mama, we're all gonna die_

_And when we go don't blame us, yeah_

_We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah_

_You made us oh so famous_

_We'll never let you go_

_And when you go don't return to me my love_

As I sang, we danced together, looking at one another the entire time, my Master spinning me around like his bride at a wedding, his lips constantly getting close to mine whenever he swung me to the beat, the warmth of his hands making my own cold fingers feel warm to the touch as we danced beneath the light of the moon, my Master being the only thing I knew was real in this moment, his hand gripping mine firmly as we spun slowly together, around and around, within the comfortable embrace of each other, before I stop to look at him, his gaze looking at me as well.  
Before I knew it, I was kissing him. I didn't remember leaning in to do so, but his slight jump of surprise told me that I did so, his lips soft against mine as I gripped more firmly upon him, my Master, my love, the only one that I desired here and now. I knew that I was simply pushing the feelings that I had away due to cynicism, before now, but this...I couldn't deny them any longer. He had been so kind to me, and even when he was abrasive, he felt like he was in the wrong, all because he loved me so much; and deep within my heart, I could not deny that, despite the ice cold void there due to my non-existence, the thing that filled my heart was him, my Master.  
Breaking the kiss, I gasped for air, feeling my heart racing from just a single kiss. “Master...I-”  
He smiled at me, brushing his hand against my face. “We should go home,” he said, and I nodded in agreement. There were still a few Servants left to deal with, but after the absolute disaster of a battle that happened tonight, I was happy that I could protect him without hesitation anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

The only person who was at the memorial for Circe aside from me was Jalter, the two of us standing in my backyard as I lay flowers upon a temporary grave that I had placed there in memory of the Caster that had helped us so much in such little time. Only about a month had passed, but she was one of the reasons that we knew what we were getting into with that ambush, but in the end…  
I didn’t want to think about it right now. What Circe did for me was more than I could say I appreciated, and I was grateful that I was alive because of her valiant sacrifice. Even Jalter seemed down, even though they bickered most every day.   
“Are you alright?”, I asked her, and she looked up, nodding to me. “What about you?”, she replied, and I gave her a slight frown.   
“I wish she was still here. I wish that I was able to do something more for her.”   
“She chose her path, much like I chose mine. I was willing to die to kill that Archer bastard-”   
“And I thought you _did_ , Jea-”, I said, cutting myself off before I could call her the forbidden name, turning away. “I thought you were going to die.”   
“I don’t die that easy, Master,” she said, chuckling slightly, her hand pressing against my shoulder. “Circe was...an important part of our team, as much as I hate to admit it. And though I didn’t trust your judgement at first, it seems that she was worth the trouble in the end.”   
Jeanne approached with the now swordless body of Circe, her wounds patched up to make her look nice. “I did what I could to make her death look less painful than it was, at least on the outside.”   
“Thank you for bringing her here, Jeanne. She would appreciate your care for her,” I say, directing the saint to the makeshift altar that I wished to have her placed upon. “If you’d like, you can stay to help see her off. As a holy woman, it would be great to send her off with-”   
“Thank you, but I have...other matters to attend to,” she says, frowning slightly. “I wish you well in the future, Master Kalas, Servant Alter.”   
She left then, her braid blowing slightly in the breeze as she did so, the both of us watching her leave as I heaved a large sigh.   
“Er...Master…”, Jalter said, and I turned to see her pointing to the altar, and I saw what made her so shocked.   
Sitting up upon the altar that she had been laid upon, rubbing her eyes and groaning, was a very much alive Circe, looking around and asking, “Where am I…?”   
She would find herself being tightly hugged by myself, my soft laughs of disbelief. “Circe! You’re ok! I thought...I thought you were dead…!”   
“I did too, actually, but...mmmm…”, she says, trying to recount what had happened, but shook her head. “I don’t remember. All I know is that I heard a voice telling me to come back, that my work wasn’t done yet, like I was commanded to come back. And then...I woke up here. Where _are_ we, anyway?”   
“My backyard, in the middle of your wake and funeral. But not anymore,” I smile at her, and she softly smiles back.   
“I’m glad to be back, Master.”

“Circe has been returned to her previous position, Master.”  
“Good, good. Now she’ll be in an even better position than before, though having to revive her with my Command Seals was a bit of a pain...that Emiya Alter, he was quite a thorn in my side, but now that he’s gone, I won’t need to resummon him. Initiate Phase A.”   
“Phase A? Already? But, ma’am-”   
“Do it. Or do I have to let him out myself and have him kill you plebeians?”   
“N-no, Avalon! Of course not! We’ll let him out right away!”   
Avalon sat back in her chair at the Mage’s Association, a laugh coming from her mouth as Jeanne entered the room. “Ah, right on time. You’ve done a good thing, letting them believe their precious Caster has returned for their benefit. Perhaps you’re more evil than you thought.”   
“I’m just doing what you’ve told me to tell them, Master.”   
“Whatever. You may return to your normal duties as arbiter of the Holy War, Ruler.”   
“My name is-”   
“I know, and I don’t care. Get out of here before I decide to unsummon you and bring in a different Ruler, one who wouldn’t question my Authority.”   
“Y-yes, Master, I’m sorry,” Jeanne says, bowing before leaving again, leaving the red-haired woman to her devices.   
“Let’s see how you handle a Hassan, you Master _bastard_.”

Jalter tapped my shoulder, and I turned towards her with a curious look.  
“Master, we still have Altera and the Lancer to worry about, as well as the other Classes we haven’t seen yet,” she says, and I wave it off.   
“We’ll worry about that tomorrow, Jalter,” I say, turning towards Circe again before she forcibly turns me around and grabs me by the shoulders. “Master, there is something _big_ coming this way, something we can’t-”   
Her sentence is cut off by the darkening of the sky, the dying down of the wind. It seems like time has grinded to a halt, and I feel my chest tightening.   
“He’s here,” I say simply.   
“Who? Who is it, Master?”   
Out of the darkness steps a man, blue eyes shining out from a skull as he grips his sword in one hand, his steps slow and methodical, the darkness collecting behind him to create a cape of seemingly endless night. The man’s blade is darkness as well, though it seems much more physically real than the rest of his equipment. His simple look pierces through my very soul, his ice cold gaze staring straight through me, as he speaks.   
“Master of the Holy War. You know who I am, do you not?”, he asks me, his voice as earthly as a grave. Unable to speak from the sheer pressure his presence gave off, I nodded simply.   
“Then I need not introduce myself to you, or to thine Servants. I simply require to begin combat,” he says, bringing his blade up as he moved into an aggressive stance. “Give me your best, for anything less will bring death. Your Caster companion knows well, for she has seen me recently.” “Master, who _is_ this guy? He knows you, you know him? What the _fuck_ is going on?!!”, Jalter asks me, and I reply simply, “Do you remember my dream?”   
“Your dream…? The one where you-”   
“This is him. Hassan i-Sabbah. He’s here to kill me.”   
  
“Aye,” he says, standing quite still. “Avenger, you have been summoned in opposition to mine Master, and therefore we are enemies. Though a Hassan thou art not, fall you shall, in accordance with mine Master’s wishes.”   
Jalter grips the pommel of her sword. “Then I guess you’re our next opponent, huh?”   
He nods, sinking back into the darkness, the sky becoming a torrential sea of inky black, our surroundings nothing but pure shadows.   
“Jalter-!”, I said, worried, and she angrily sighed, “I know!”   
“This is bad.”   
“I know. But we can get through this, I _know_ we can.”   
“Are you sure?”   
Jalter looks at me before stealing a small kiss, grinning slightly at me. “I'm an A-rank Servant; and this guy, while he’s an A-Rank like me, is _still_ a bitch compared to me.”   
My resolve re-hardened by Jalter and her burning desire to fight, I prepared myself for a battle against Hassan-i-Sabbah, King Hassan himself.


	11. Chapter 11

I drew my sword and stood ready to defend my Master, his back against mine, as we circled around while standing back to back, waiting for the sight of Hassan before us, the spectre of death itself able to pop out from anywhere within the darkness he himself had shrouded us within.  
Suddenly, I had a feeling of where the Assassin-class Servant would be coming from, pulling my Master to the ground before making a stabbing motion with the flagpole I wielded in my other hand, the pointed tip grazing the armor of King Hassan as he gave a growl of seemingly slight frustration.  
“You’re not taking him, Hassan,” I said firmly, gritting my teeth. “He’s _my_ Master, and nothing will stop me from protecting him with my very life. I would rather have myself become a martyr for him than let you take him away from me yourself.”  
“So you wish death upon yourself, then?”, Hassan chuckles, dispelling the darkness before teleporting above the both of us and performing a downward stab attack. “ _Then die._ ”  
I used my mana to protect myself, his sword bouncing back as it knocked his balance off, the master Assassin visibly getting slightly more perturbed that his current target was being protected by someone who wasn’t simply going to roll over for the likes of him.

Teleporting before me once again, I barely blocked the rain of blows he hammered against me, our swords locking across from one another as we both pushed against the blades, my hands pushing forwards slowly as I overpowered him, swinging my foot to kick him in the shin and knocking Hassan off balance once again before swinging at his midsection, landing a blow that tore through the darkness surrounding his body, his eyes turning from a cold blue to a fiery red.  
“Thou hast wounded me,” he said, in a deep tone, staring into Jalter’s eyes. “But that will be thine only success against me, Avenger.”  
“Not fucking likely, you Assassin bastard,” I growled back, punching him in the face with the hand gripping onto the flagpole and knocking him off of his feet. I grip onto my sword to stab down into Hassan’s chest before he disappears from my view, my eyes widening in realization before, instinctively, I tear the flag off of its pole and throw the pole with a scream of rage into the sky above my Master, Hassan sputtering as he teleports directly into where the pole is, his sword dropping to the ground with a dull _clang_ as he clutches the flagpole in his chest, slowly standing up while blood drips down his robes.

He points at me, stepping closer to me as he looks with a gaze of pure, unbridled rage. “Thou knowst not what lies before you. My death is not the end. Thou knowst not what drives mine Master to such depths as this, but know this, Avenger: it’s because of _you_ , and you alone.”  
Coughing up blood as he falls to his knees, Hassan stands back up, his eyes returned to their steely blue. “Death is not the end for Hassan. I will go on, and though I may be weaker in some ways, mine powers wilt be greater in others. Be wary, Avenger.”  
He disappears into the shadows once again, as if he were never there to begin with, the flagpole dropping to the ground with blood spattered where it had been embedded in his chest.  
My Master pants heavily, looking around at the sky above, as he slowly loses the tension in his body. “Do you think he’ll be back…?”  
“What did he mean,”I asked, “When he said that all of this was my fault…?”  
“That’s Avalon trying to make you feel doubt about yourself,” he replied. “It happened to me, too.”  
“When you fainted, after I told you that I loved you-”  
“That was because of her too. There’s...a lot about her that made me wonder how I could have put up with her demanding nature.”  
Jalter turns to me, about to speak, when I tense up again, and seeing this, he turns as well to see-  
 _Altera._

“Hmmm. It seems fate has designated this as your death day, Master, Jeanne Alter.”  
She speaks with a cold and collected manner, not seeing myself and my Master as people, but rather, as simply enemies to be erased. Bad civilization, as it were.  
She draws her sword, and holds it downwards. “I watched you fight my ally, and I am impressed at how you held off such a powerful foe, especially one as intensely powerful as he. But I would not have been surprised if he took you down; though he is not the most powerful Servant my Master has summoned, his might is not to be trifled with. Still, I applaud you both on your slight victory.”  
“Do you intend to only talk, or are we gonna fight?”, Jalter said, and Altera stood silent for a moment.  
“Yes, I apologize. I do not normally speak so much, but I felt that perhaps you would have taken my enjoyment of your fight against the Assassin as a positive. It seems that I was wrong.” Altera, despite everything, seems slightly disappointed that Jalter did not enjoy being watched.  
“I just want to give you what’s coming to you, that’s all,” she replies, and Altera grips her sword tightly, moving it before her.  
“Very well, then. Destruction of civilization...commencing.”  
  
Keeping up with Altera after the fight with the Hassan proved to be difficult, though; I felt myself slowly faltering, at times barely parrying or blocking Altera’s constant attacks.  
“Nggh...you bitch...why did you have to come at a time like this…?”, I asked her as I grit my teeth, her reply unsurprisingly vague: “I simply made a decision to end you now. Whether I inconvenience your civilization is of no importance to me.”  
“Not only is it an inconvenience...it’s fucking _rude!_ ”, I growl, slamming the bloody flagpole against her face and knocking her back, furious that this bitch had the audacity, the absolute _gall_ to come here and tell me that she was unconcerned about what myself and my Master did?! Fuck that, fuck that all to hell! If she wanted to be burned alive for her words, she should have kept talking.  
  
Unfortunately, that’s when she decided to shut up and focus, using her sword as leverage in order to propel herself above me and kick me from behind, knocking me forwards and causing me to stumble before I turned around and saw her palm rocketing towards me, slamming into my face and knocking me over onto the grass, my body scraping across the dirt as I spit blood from my mouth, standing to wipe it off while Altera came closer once again, her sword glowing with magical energy.  
“I was unable to kill you last time, what with the Ruler’s interjection. But my Master has given no instruction on killing you now and ending this war early. That was the Assassin’s job, and he left with his tail tucked between his legs after being overpowered by someone who had an ample chance to defeat him. Kill him you did not; but end your civilization, I will. _I do not end life, only destroy civ-_ ”  
  
My fist slammed into Altera’s face before she had a chance to react, even my Master somewhat surprised at my speed as I began unleashing my anger and frustration on the Saber, fists hammering down against Altera’s face.  
“Oh, you don’t kill, do you? You don’t end people’s lives?! What fucking bullshit that is! You intend to kill me and my Master, here and now! So I’m going to kill you before you get the chance to kill us, you fucking _BITCH!!!_ ”   
By the time I realized that my Master was calling out to me to stop, I had broken the Saber’s nose and made her bleed quite intensely, the fingers upon my gauntlets splattered with her blood just like my flagpole had Hassan’s upon it. Altera lived, but barely, turning to my Master as she lay upon the ground, crimson flowing freely from her mouth and nose.  
“You...you caused this to happen...both of you,” she says weakly, sitting up and beginning to stand. “That’s what my Master told me. That’s why she said your civilization needs to be extinguished.”  
“Just because Avalon says that I’m the issue-”, Master replies, before Altera adds in, “It’s your obsession with this maiden that she wished your demise. She said it herself. If it wasn’t for Jeanne Alter, if it wasn’t for that chance meeting with Saber Alter, this never would have happened, she said.”  
  
My Master seemed quite shocked by this revelation, blinking multiple times. “S-Salter…? She blames all of this on when we summoned Salter together…? That was...a year and a half ago...”


	12. Chapter 12

If what Altera said was true, then that meant that this all started a year and a half ago. Myself and Avalon were dating at the time, though we had certainly seen better days; usually it was about her taking my research and placing her name upon it instead of making it a joint operation, but in the long run I didn’t think it would matter all that much, since it got us the funding we needed to create the summoning system in the first place.  
We had run some tests before this particular instance to see if we could find any Heroic Spirits that could be summoned without much trouble, but it seemed that the more famous the character, the more unlikely they were to be summoned without the proper materials to summon them.

That is, until _she_ arrived.

We had been trying to summon King Arthur for months, to no avail, and seeing as Excalibur was an Einzburn relic, we couldn’t access it, especially since they said that it was being kept as far away from us as possible, though there were theories that they had other plans for it.  
In any case, we had to try and summon Arthur through using other things; other objects that had been in the Arthurian myths, such as the Grail itself, but though we had summoned many of the Knights themselves, we never were able to summon Arthur, until during one of the trials, I wondered if we could try to summon the negative version of the legendary king, and the Board of Directors allowed me to attempt the ritual, noting that failure could mean death, or something far worse.   
  
Stepping before the summoning circle, I extended my hand, and spoke the words aloud, for everyone to hear:

  
_Tell me._

_Your body is under me, my fate is your sword._

_If you obey the Holy Grail and follow this reason, answer._

_I am the good of all the forever, and the evil of all the forever._

_Seven heavens wearing the three great spirits, come from the wheel of deterrence, the guardian of the balance ---!_

The air crackled and conducted with every line I spoke, my very essence feeling like it was being ripped from within, my legs shaking as I struggled to speak every syllable perfectly, my heart beating rapidly within my chest, before finally-  
A burst of light from the center of the circle caused me and my fellow mages to shield our eyes, the light rescinding slowly as I heard a cold, callous voice speak to me directly.   
“...I have come in response to your summon. Are you the one who is to be my Master? “   
I pulled my hand away from my face, my eyes widening as I saw the yellow-eyed woman before me, her armor a dark color, as well as her sword and accompanying scabbard. She was looking at me, sizing me up as well as looking around the summoning lab, before returning her gaze upon me. “Tell me, where am I?”   
“Uh...y-you’re in, um...the basement laboratory of the Mage’s Association…”, I replied, her eyes closing as she took a breath in, slowly exhaling. “I...don’t mean to be a bother, but-”   
“ _What?”_ , she said, slightly annoyed, surprising me slightly but not enough for me to back down. “Are you...an Alter?”   
A smile crossed the beautiful woman’s face, a slight chuckle coming from her mouth. “Yes. I suppose you could say that. I am Saber Alter.”   
  
I had done it. Finally, after months of attempting to summon the regular King Arthur, I had, inadvertently, by reducing the incantation to its basics and allowing myself to focus not on the king himself, but on the stories that were told, and the truths held within, I had summoned the inverse, the aptly named Alter. But of course, once all the applause and congratulations had died down, and the other mages brought her into the labs for testing to see how she was different, Avalon seemed less than congratulatory.   
“What the fuck was that? Are you _trying_ to show me up?!”, she said to me after everything had settled.   
“What? No! What reason do I have to do that-”   
“I saw the way you looked at her! You had that doe-y look about you! You think she’s _pretty_ , don’t you!”   
“Avalon, listen to yourself! What you’re saying is ridiculous!”   
“Fine then, whatever. Hope she breaks your heart and stabs you to death!”  
She stomped out of the room, my bewilderment showing easily upon my face as she went to her office to sulk. I’d probably apologize to her later, but if she really thought that me finding a Servant pretty was a big deal, maybe…maybe I shouldn’t be working with her, or at this organization. But at the same time, I wouldn’t be able to research if other Alters existed if I left.   
So, after explaining my thoughts to Avalon, who scornfully agreed, I asked the Board of Directors if I could have a new partner to research with, and the motion was easily granted; they didn’t quite approve of mages being in relationships, but seeing as Avalon told me while throwing things at me that she never wanted to see me ever again outside of work, I didn’t think they had any worries about that anymore.

The next few months happened without much substantial, my summoning method bringing in data for many different summonable Alters of multiple different classes. The Board was increasingly happy with my success, and they funded me however I wanted.  
But there was one Alter I was never able to summon properly, though she was an Extra Class regardless of how I summoned her. We had gotten the data for Jeanne d’Arc quite easily, seeing as Avalon had summoned her ages before I even showed up to the Mage’s Institute. But Jeanne Alter was...another story entirely.   
That was where I hit my dead end. I wasn’t sure if I even _could_ summon Jeanne Alter, and if I did, it’d be a goddamn miracle; everything I tried failed, and while Avalon and the other mages summoned other Heroic Spirits, this one Alter consumed me. She was my biggest failure, and yet the ability to summon her was just out of my reach.   
So I did what I had to do: I left the Mage’s Association in order to be undetected, and went to France, where I thought the ritual would either bust completely, or I would finally summon her.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

“So what you’re saying, Altera, is that my ex-girlfriend thinks that the reason we broke up was because of my Alter research? That was on her! She flipped out at me for finding Salter pretty!”  
“I know not her motives,” Altera said, visibly in pain. “I only know that she wished your civilization destroyed, and that your Servant was the cause.”   
I saw Jalter look at the ground, moving to touch her shoulder when she deflected my hand.   
“ _Don’t. Don’t touch me, Master._ Please, don’t...don’t even look at me…”   
Before I could say anything else, I heard the sound of her sword puncturing Altera, the Saber spitting up blood before Jalter pulled her sword up and out of the other woman with a loud roar of anger, the heavily damaged woman’s eyes widening at the Avenger’s ferocity before she died, the white-haired woman stepping to the door where Circe had emerged. “Master, I heard a loud noise, is everything- _oh_ .”   
“Out of my way, pig bitch,” Jalter scowled, and Circe moved immediately, the Avenger stomping up to her room.   
“What’s wrong with her, Master?”, Circe asked, and I didn’t answer, only gave a look that said I’d explain later, to which the Caster nodded.   
  
I heard Jalter slam her door before locking the knob, my hand knocking upon it in order to make her aware of my presence.   
“Go away! Leave me alone!”, she called back, the sound of despair seeping into her voice. “I’ve brought you nothing but misery!”   
“That’s not _true_ , Jalter! You know better than that!”   
“I don’t fucking believe you!”   
“Well then I don’t know what to say to you, then!”   
“Good! Maybe you’ll leave me alone then!”   
“And what if I don’t? What then? What if I _don’t_ give up on you?!”   
“I don’t fucking know! Do you expect me to have the answer to that?”   
“I don’t! But we’ve been through way too much together to not try and figure it out together! Don’t you get that?! I _want_ to figure you out! I want to figure your _existence_ out! I want to know why you _exist_ ! I want to help you understand what it means to be a Heroic Spirit, you dumb Avenger bitch!”   
  
I step away from the door, trying to calm down. But I couldn’t. I knew that I couldn’t. She was frustrating me to no end, by not opening up to me and letting me help her-   
The door unlocks, and I hear the hinges creak as Jalter slowly opens the door. I turn around, and see my Servant looking out from behind the door she had finally opened. “You want to help me...figure out who I am?”   
“I do. You fascinate me, Jeanne Alter, and I...I want to know who you are, what makes you different from the original Jeanne, all those things. I want...I want to help you become the best version of yourself that you can, even if it means that you have to rely on my help, because despite everything, Avalon told me one thing that I’ve tried to listen to this entire time: we’re partners.”   
She looks at me, opening the door slightly more to stand in the doorway, the blood on her gauntlets from beating Altera’s face in as well as the spray of blood that came from the Saber’s ebbing life as Jalter cleaved her near in two making her armor a dull brownish red color, tinges of it in her white hair as she stared at me with her yellow eyes, the ones that caught my attention when I had summoned her.  
It felt like so long ago, summoning this beautiful Alter woman, the reverse of the saint who had been burned at the stake as a witch. And despite her being the reverse of such a lovely saint, Jeanne Alter wasn’t really angry because of what had happened to her; she was angry because she didn’t feel the need to exist, she didn’t feel that she belonged in this world, the same one as her original version, all because she was unsure what she herself was as a person, or rather, a Servant. It was very much like her, and as I looked at the Alter before me, I felt my heart swell with joy at just how far we had come up to now.   
“Jeanne…”   
Jalter’s eye twitched slightly, as I saw her bite her lip, before she grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me into her room, closing and locking the door behind her while throwing me onto her bed before beginning to undress before my very eyes.   
“You get to call me that tonight _only_ , Master...no, Kalas,” she says, calling me by my name and not just my title as she crawls into bed with me, wearing nothing but her bra and panties as our lips meet, her soft skin brushing against mine as I allow Jalter to top me, the kiss breaking as we look at one another, a smile breaking out across Jalter’s face.

“Kalas...”, Jalter said to me, in a slightly pleading tone, her hand slipping against mine before she took it and pressed it against her cheek, nuzzling into it. “Your hand...it's so soft and warm...”  
I smile warmly at her, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “My darling Jeanne Alter...”   
She looked up at me, her yellow eyes seeming to glow slightly as I spoke her name, when she kissed me once again, more fully upon the lips, her eyes closing before the sensual impact of our lips pressing against one another.   
She tasted faintly of honey, something I didn't think a violent woman such as herself would, but it didn't matter as I gripped onto her, her hands also grabbing onto me as her body pressed against mine, my superior height not mattering once our lips met.   
I broke the kiss, panting hotly as I looked down at the woman in front of me, seeing that she was blushing intensely. “M-Master...I want you...I want you to give me as much mana as you're able to give me. We probably don't have very much time left together, so...just for tonight, I'm willing to be the woman you want me to be, just for you.”   
“Jalter, you're everything I could want in a Servant and more, and better yet, you're probably the best woman I've met, bar none. I'm glad to have summoned you.”   
She blushed again, pressing her reddened face against me, her hands gripping onto my clothes. “You're so kind, Master...I don't know what to say...”   
“You don't need to say a word, Jalter,” I reply, tilting her chin up to look at me once again. “I already know, my love.”   
Her eyes widened at my words, her mouth slightly agape. I saw Jeanne Alter swallow and lick her lips, somewhat on the defensive now. “You...truly love me, as a Servant?”   
“As a woman, Jeanne Alter. You're a person, not just a Servant. Not to me.”   
Jeanne's eyes filled with tears, her rare heartfelt smile shining through as she pulled me against her again and kissed me once more, her hands gripping more tightly upon me as she grabbed upon me as if to never let go, pulling me back against her as we fell upon the floor, my asking if she was alright interrupted by her tongue sliding into my mouth, her breathing loud and hot as it mixed with mine.

Breaking the kiss, Jeanne decided to tease me slightly. “So, this is what you wanted all along, huh? You wanted me to fall for you like a regular old damsel in one of your stories? Well I'm no damsel, Master; if anything, I'm the dragon you should be slaying.”  
“If that's the case, then perhaps I'll finish what I started when I summoned you and make you understand that I'm your Master,” I say, her wicked grin returning, though without its usual hint of malice or evil intent- it was simply a silent agreement to see who would be on top, and we both wanted to be it.   
She started then, teasing me by moving her hips against my crotch, knowing exactly what to do in order to turn me on, which was a major disadvantage for me. I had no idea how to tease her back, but she knew so much about me it was almost terrifying.   
“C'mon, c'mon~ where's that haughty attitude you had a few minutes ago, huh? You still trying to make me believe you're my Master, or would you rather I ride you like a horse and make you cum like one too~?”, she teased, bouncing her hips upon my growing erection, my slight arousal at being teased by my Servant turning into a lustful desire as I grabbed Jalter and flipped her onto her back, surprising her quite a lot as my hands pressed against her wrists, my knees against her large thighs.  
“You and I both know that I could easily make you my bitch, but I'm doing this the hard way to make you see for yourself that I'm not just another mage; now behave, or I'll make sure you remember this for more than just pinning you down like this!”   
With her grin spreading across her face, Jalter leaned in and pressed her face against my neck, kissing the area before I felt her bite down upon the flesh located there, her tongue pressing against the opening she had rendered in my skin and lapping at the wound, dark giggles squeezing themselves from her lungs as she tasted my blood, her mouth finally removing itself from my neck as she returned to kiss me, the faint taste of honey mixing with the coppery taste of the crimson liquid that she had been draining from me in small amounts.   
I decided to surprise the fang-bearing woman by reciprocating the action, pulling her close and biting down upon her neck, her surprised gasping filling me with desire to do more as my teeth embedded themselves into her flesh as she had done to me, the familiar taste of copper filling my mouth now as well, her hand gripping onto my hair as if to remove me despite her begging pleas of, “Don't stop, Master”, her panting breathing driving me to go further, my hands moving to her hips as I pressed inside of her, her voice breaking softly as her fingers grip onto me, her lips pressing back against mine as I feel her moving against me, our shallow, panting breaths mixing with each other as her hips bounce against mine, the entirety of my dick becoming engulfed by her hot insides as Jalter clings tightly around me both inside and out.

“M-Master...please...”, she whimpers in my ear, nibbling upon it as she rides me slowly, her chest pressing against mine as my hands pressed against her ass, firmly pressing against her backside as she began riding me harder, her nails dragging along my back before digging into my back when I thrust up into her in response, her voice shaking and shivering.“Oh God, please...never let this end,” Jalter quietly pleaded, feeling me twitching within her, her body bouncing more upon my lap as I kissed her neck again, biting and sucking upon it as she gasped loudly, her voice going higher and higher as she, too, came closer and closer to finishing, before I felt her push me down and slam her hips against me fervently. “Master! I'm-!”  
“Jalter...!”, I grunt aloud, letting her take over as I feel my body become overloaded with pleasure, shooting my load deep inside of her, the Avenger's response nearly immediate as she, too, climaxes, screaming out in pleasure as her hips press against me, taking me as deep inside of her body as she could, feeling my mana filling her completely as she drools slightly, cuddling against me as she shivers from the afterglow she was currently experiencing.   
“How was that, M-Master...?”, she asked me, looking at me innocently. “Was that...enough for you?”   
I chuckle, kissing her once again. “That was great, Jalter. Thank you.”   
She cuddles against me under the blankets upon my bed, our naked bodies nestled against each other.

“I love you, Master~”


	13. Chapter 13

“Jalter,” a voice says, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I look towards the voice, the voice of my Master, Kalas, his eyes full of concern for me.  
“...what?”, I slightly snap, shaking myself out of my self-induced psychosis. What the hell's wrong with me? I'm a Servant, dammit. I needed to hold myself up like one.  
“Are you alright, Jeanne?”, he asked again. Always concerned about me, he's always so concerned with my well-being. I sighed, knowing that he meant well, but wishing that he wasn't so concerned that it seemed to be all he was focused upon.  
“What is it, Master?”, I reply, slightly annoyed.   
“What's on your mind, Jeanne?”, he asks me.  
Frowning slightly, I sit deeper against the chair, picking up the steaming mug before me, and take a sip of the brown liquid inside of it. Hot chocolate, I think he called it? Whatever it was, it certainly tasted like chocolate, though the aftertaste left something to be desired. Yes, Servants didn't need to eat, drink, or sleep, but we could partake in it; it just wasn't necessary for us.  
“I've been thinking, Master,” I begin, “About what I am, who I am, and my existence as a whole. I have memories of being Jeanne D'Arc, yet I am not Jeanne. I remember what she felt as she was arrested for being a witch, all the anger at her superiors that she felt, the despair she harboured within her when her God wasn't there to save her. But most of all, I remember the agony of the flames burning beneath her body as the people of France watched this so-called 'witch' burn at the stake, a mere 19 years old, screaming for a God who did not answer her cries for mercy. I was born not of a woman, but of the ideals of a man who harboured such a sick love for me that I was created of his memory of me, of the feelings of hate that he held within him for losing his precious young saint. I was born not of a mother, but of the evil intentions of a single man and a Holy Grail, so therefore, who am I but a Servant? A pawn to be used by you, my Master, as you see fit.”  
I take another sip of my hot chocolate. “That is all, Master.”   
“That's...that's really heavy, Jalter,” he replies, a sigh emitting from my mouth.   
“Well, look, last night was…nice,” I say, blushing and averting my eyes before continuing. “But we need to look at the bigger picture. We’ve got Circe now, and she should be able to pick up if any Servants will be coming to attack us.”   
“Indeed. Is there anything else you’d like, Jalter?”   
I attempt to take another sip from my mug and find it empty, holding it out to my Master. “More of this hot chocolate stuff. It’s really good.”   
“Of course, one moment please,” he says, getting up and grabbing my mug while also taking his own and bringing it upstairs to the kitchen, leaving me in the basement with my thoughts. 

Deciding that I had to know something, I walked upstairs to find my Master humming to himself as he made more hot chocolate, standing behind him before he turned around and let out a soft, sharp gasp. “Ah, Jalter. Jeez, you scared me. Did you need something?”  
I swallowed. The other me hadn't felt fear when she had been arrested as a witch, nor had she felt fear being brought to be burned at the stake. But I felt fear right now, trying to tell my Master exactly what I was thinking, the burning question I had for him.   
“Why...why do you care about me like you do?”, I ask, looking up at him as I asked. I felt so nervous. I shouldn't feel this nervous.   
He sighed and gave a slight laugh through his nose. “You want to know why a Master like me cares about a Servant, huh?”   
I nodded earnestly, and he continued. “Servants are people. They may not be people in the sense that they need to eat or drink or sleep, since they are snapshots in time of when they were in peak condition, but...they are people all the same.”   
Servants are still people...that's what he believed? That was really interesting, to say the least. This was the first Master that I had had who felt that way that I could think of, and I was sure that I had been summoned and resummoned by quite a few Masters. “Well, what does that make me, as a Servant whose existence is based on the memories of a Jeanne d'Arc with vengeance in her heart?”   
“A person,” he replied, smiling at me once again. That damned smile. I felt my heart skip a beat when he did that, damn him. This Master...he put his heart and soul into summoning me, he wished for me specifically, didn't he? Me, the shadow of a pure maiden? It was baffling, but it also filled me with a lot of warmth, a hope that I hadn't felt before.

That's when I felt it. The familiar surge of magical energy, that feeling of raw power. Another Servant.  
“Master,” I said with a sense of urgency, “Get down!”

I pulled him back against me, onto the floor, as a hail of bullets flew through the kitchen, shattering the various plates, glasses, and mugs within the cupboards and covering myself and Kalas in a coating of shards of glass and clay, the loud roar of a chaingun ripping outside and not stopping for what felt like a couple of minutes. Finally, everything fell silent once again, and I stood up, brushing the various splinters of wood and glass off of my body to stare into the eyes of my opponent, a hulking suit of dark armour, with a dark aura surrounding him as he reached for his sword, pulling it out of its sheath and I pulled out my own, pointing it at him. “Berserker Lancelot,” I spoke aloud, looking at him as he shuffled forwards. “You will not defy this place with your sorry hide. I will tear your soul asunder and ensure no harm comes to my Master. Also, you made one grave mistake.”  
I leapt forwards, pushing him away by slamming against him with my shoulder, the Berserker knight roaring as I tossed him back, his armored hand digging into the soil outside of my home as he growled out wordlessly.

“Your mistake, Berserker, was interrupting our chat while I waited for my hot chocolate.”

I jumped into the air, front-flipping as I brought my blade down to meet his helmet, the Berserker gripping onto the blade and wrenching it from my hand, but not before I swung my flag and knocked it into the side of his head, dazing him for a moment as I rolled along the grassy bank and retrieved my sword. Lancelot roared and came hurtling towards me, but I was ready, a grin crossing my face as I swung my sword towards his trajectory, but he surprised me by jumping over it and slamming his fist against my face, crushing my head against the ground.  
“Gh-! Shit...”, I said aloud, feeling the Berserker straddle me as he began to punch me, over and over again, his fists of steel making my head bounce against the grass again and again, his screaming roars all I could hear over the ringing in my ears.  
I had to get him off of me, but that was proving difficult with the beating Lancelot was giving me, my face broken and bloodied, my helmet almost shattered from how hard the Berserker pressed his fists against me. But there was only one thing pushing me forwards, and that was my goal: protect my Master.   
I felt a burning sensation come over me, like the heat of the fire that had consumed Jeanne's body as she had been killed as a witch. “Ghuuuuu...! Get offa me, you oversized bastard!”, I yell out, grabbing my sword and punching him in the gut with the hilt in my hand, the force enough to make Lancelot stop and allowing me to kick him off, getting up and shaking my head to try and get rid of the ringing in my ears.   
“JEANNE!!!”, I heard from the kitchen, turning to see Lancelot running straight for my Master, gritting my teeth and running as fast as I could towards him, sliding beneath the armored man as he gripped my Master's throat and pinned him against the wall, stabbing my sword in the space between the cuirass and the helmet.  
Blood sprayed out around my blade as the Berserker let Kalas fall to the ground, my arm drawing back as Lancelot stumbled back, his hand pressing against his throat as the blood flows in a rapid cascade, his roars of anger gargled by the blood filling his lungs, and he finally falls, the Berserker Servant disappearing in a cloud of golden sparks.   
I pant heavily, looking at the ground, watching my own blood drip down onto the ground, Kalas holding me up. I look at him, but can't hear what he's saying, only seeing that his lips are moving, seeing the concern on his face. I follow him as he brings me into his basement, and collapse upon the concrete floor. Am I...dying? Is that what this feels like? I don't...I don't like this. Not like this, not like this, please, Master...help me...  
  
  
All I could do after Jalter pulled me down and kept me protected while Lancelot used his Noble Phantasm before she went out to face the Berserker was watch as he outsmarted her and started slamming his fists against her face, pummelling her to keep her down for the count.   
“Jeanne! Get up, please!”, I called out,watching as Jalter continued to get her face smashed in by the howling Berserker knight, before I used one of my Command Spells to temporarily make her stronger, seeing her finally push him off before Lancelot started coming for me.  
I tried to move, but I was rooted to the spot, fear overtaking me as I screamed out, “JEANNE!”, watching as Lancelot hustled towards me, slowly creeping towards me as she stepped into the kitchen, gripping me by the throat and lifting me high against the wall, my hands grabbing onto his wrists, knowing that I wasn't going to pull his hand off, before-   
The sound of Jeanne's sword piercing the Berserker's neck before he dropped me was indescribable. It was a horrible sound that I had never heard before, and never want to imagine again, and the sight of Lancelot trying to stop the bleeding before he fell and died...this was war. That's when it hit me, the reality of my situation; I was in a war, and anyone who hesitated, dies.  
Remembering Jalter's wounded state, I looked at Jeanne and said, “Jalter, can you hear me? Please, say something, I'm begging you...!”   
Her lack of a response terrified me to no end. Something was very wrong.   
I pulled her into the basement, slowly making our way down the stairs, her steps barely making a sound with how lightly she steps. Once we get into the basement, she collapses fully, and I rush over to her, cradling her body in my arms as her eyes barely stay open.   
“Jeanne...Jeanne, Jeanne, please, not yet, you can't go yet...please, Jeanne, please...”, I struggle to say, choking slightly as I begin to cry, shuddering while I lean against the bloodied Avenger, her hand coming up to brush against my cheek.   
“Ma...ster...”, she gasps out, looking at me with a slight smile, her yellow eyes full of what looked to be happiness.  
I kissed her, tears coating my lips as they pressed against hers, my body shuddering with the sadness that coursed through me until I felt her firmly push me away, with a slight murmur, “Th-this never happened,” her cheeks tinged light red, her blood covered face looking much more full of colour despite her obvious paleness that denoted her as an Alter.   
“It saved your life, didn't it?”, I said, taking my robes and wiping some of the blood off of her face.   
“Mmmm...I suppose so, yes,” she agreed, though she still refused to look at me, though whether it was because she was genuinely upset or because she was embarrassed I didn't know.   
“So um...”, I asked, “That was terrifying, I won't lie.”   
Getting up off of the floor, Jalter picked me up from where I was sitting. “It's not safe here anymore. We need to go somewhere else.”   
“Where though?”, I ask, genuinely unsure of what to do.   
“I don't know. But we can't stay here anymore,” she said. “Once the war is over, you can rebuild. But right now, we're so close to winning, and I'd hate to see you lose so close to tasting victory.”   
I chuckle to myself slightly. “Yeah...that would suck, huh?”, I reply, looking at her with a renewed sense of vigor. “So, we've got how many Servants left?”   
“Just a couple, I believe,” she replied. “You've been very capable with utilizing me to my full potential, and I can honestly say that I'm...”   
Jalter's voice falters slightly, her face falling to look at the ground before she continues. “I'm...genuinely grateful to have you as a Master.”


	14. Chapter 14

“So what do you suggest we do, Jalter?”, I asked my Servant as we walked through the streets, her casual outfit that I had bought her the only clothes she was currently wearing, since she had assured me that she could simply resummon her armor if needed.  
“I don’t know,” she said, “But maybe, just maybe, we could...no, that’s stupid…”, she says, shaking her head.   
“No, I want to hear it; what’s your idea?”   
She sighs, blushing before looking at me once again. “We could find you somewhere temporary to stay until this mess is over, and you can rebuild everything.”   
“Temporary...hmmm...I _guess_ they have those hotel-esque apartments, but...what if Avalon finds us again?”, I say, and she sighs.   
“If that bitch wants to find us and send that Berserker at us again, then I’ll gladly fuck him up again, so long as it means you’re safe.” She pressed her hand against my face and gave me a small kiss, a smile crossing her face.   
“Well...that house was my parents’ place, so I’ll want to go back eventually, I guess,” I reply. But she was right; we couldn’t just stay out here in the open.   
“ Perhaps _I_ have a suggestion ,” a woman’s voice came from behind us, and we turned to see a busty woman in full armor riding a dark horse.   
  
“Alturia-!”, Jalter gasped, and drew her sword, before the Lancer lifted her hand towards her.   
“I come bearing no ill will, Master and Servant. I simply wish to tell you that my Master will not cease her search for you, as you already know.”   
“Then what the fuck do you want?”, Jalter asked, replacing the sword into its sheath but keeping her hand on the pommel.   
“I simply wish to tell you that I and the remaining Servants do not wish to fight you, Master,” she says, which makes me quite confused.   
“You have that ability? What if she Command Seals you to do so?”   
She laughs slightly, removing her helmet to reveal her face, pale as all Alters are, as well as allowing me to see her yellow sclera, her lips a simple line across her face as they stay pursed whenever she falls silent.   
“Then I will resist with all of my might. She is not as strong a Master as you are. I could feel it when she summoned me. There is a distinct difference between yourself and her.”   
“So...you don’t think that we’ll see one another in combat anymore?”   
“Nay. In fact, I nearly guarantee it; if anything, I feel that you would make a much better associate than her, if not a leader.” Her lips turned into a slight smile. “If you wish it, we may clear out the Mage’s Association, so that you could-”   
“ _No._ ”

The Lancer looked at me in surprise, Jalter somewhat incredulous as well. “Master…?”  
“I don’t want to go back. I _never_ want to go back there. It’s a part of me that I don’t want to associate with anymore,” I say to both Alters, and while Alteria Alter seems disappointed, Jalter becomes more surprised. “Master, what are you saying? You could become the head of the Mage’s Association! You could make it a better place!”   
I look at her, and she has a look of worry, of intense concern, and I relent slightly. “I don’t want to be a part of this anymore. I’m tired of this; I’m tired of having to fight in order to keep myself alive because she can’t accept that I wasn’t at fault for submitting research that we both worked on under her name! I slaved away for _months_ trying to figure out something with implementing servant summoning, and this is how she repays me? By trying to kill me because of a simple mistake that _she_ made?!”   
“But we never would have met if this hadn’t occurred-”   
“I would have figured it out eventually! But she pushed me, she pushed me to leave, and pushed me into trying to find my own way to show that I still had merit in the eyes of the council! And for what? Just to try and kill me in a Holy Grail War between just the two of us?! She’s fucking insane, and I don’t want to do this anymore!!!”   
  
My chest felt incredibly tight, and I was holding onto Jalter more and more as I felt my body shaking, and before I knew it, I had fallen to my knees, sobs escaping my body as I cried from the feeling of despair that had come over me, Jalter clinging to me and holding me close as I embraced her while feeling like I was losing my mind, her hand brushing against my hair and petting me.   
It felt like hours had passed before I finally collected myself, wiping my nose with my sleeve while Jalter helps me up, taking deep breaths to keep myself calm. I had a realization at this point, while I was freaking out in my panic attack while realizing the gravity of the situation I was in: I was winning. The only reason that Avalon was sending such massive powerhouses against me was because she was, effectively, _afraid_ of me and Jalter actually winning.   
Circe, who had been travelling with us this entire time, was my first look into just how I could win against her; my compassion and desire to win without so much as Jalter swinging her sword, was how we could do this, and with Alteria saying that she would help, as well as Circe on our side, I felt like we could do this.   
  
“Now then,” the Alter Lancer said, her grimace never once wavering as she spoke, “That doesn’t mean you won’t have to fight us; simply that we will resist our Master’s commands. She is a tyrant. Circe has told us how well you treat even her, an outsider to your group, and how enamored you are with your summoned Servant. You are quite different from other Masters that I have experienced, and for that, I welcome you into my court.”   
“Thanks,” I said, clearing my throat and looking at the busty Alter before me, taking a deep breath before feeling my resolve overtake me. “I...I guess I’ve never really known or understood what’s going on...but I guess we gotta end this sooner rather than later huh…?”   
The Servants surrounding me nod in agreement; we all know that I’m the only Master that can make it out of this. Avalon has been abusing these poor Servants, I knew from the way the Alter queen spoke to me. She did it to me, in the same way, and I couldn’t let it happen again. Did I _want_ to end her life? No.   
But she made me have to by forcing me into this Holy Grail War.   
We approached the entrance of the Mage’s Association, all of us gathering before the front doors, ready to enter the building. I tensed up at the prospect of seeing Avalon again, but the feeling of Jalter squeezing my hand before I turned to see her smile slightly put me more at ease.   
“Let’s finish this,” I say to the Servants behind me, and we walk forwards into the building to see-

Blood. Everywhere, on the floor, the walls, the various cracked archways and ruined architecture within the main building of the Mage’s Association, corpses of the various aides covering the floor as the scene was visibly one of carnage, a scene meant to paint a picture of death.  
“What the fuck…?”, Jalter said, stepping next to me as the rest of us looked on in bewilderment and horror, Alteria stepping forth with her horse and taking the lead.   
“This is a diversion tactic; Avalon killed all of the aides and left them here to make you feel uneasy about facing her. But we’re behind you, all the way. I swear it upon my honor.”   
“Thank you, Alteria.You’re a valiant woman,” I said, and she shook her head.   
“You could have killed Circe, easily. But you forced your Servant to obey you, and saved her life. Avalon would never do that for any of us. You’re a good Master, and a good man.”   
Swearing that I saw the horse-riding woman smile slightly before she pressed forwards, we delved deeper into the Mage’s Association, wondering what else lay in store for us all.


	15. Chapter 15

“So, you finally made it, did you? Good, good~ glad to see you’re still alive and kicking, Kalas,” the woman sitting at the console of the prototype summoning portal that we had drawn the plans up for about a year ago; it was made as a catalyst to draw power from the Root and attempt to draw out a Servant from a time period of our choosing, and if successful, a Servant would appear, and we would be able to bind them in a contract with us until we dispelled them, or they died through other means.  
“It’s over, Avalon. I’m here to end this war, here and now.” I stand before the woman I once held strong feelings towards, Jalter standing next to me readying her weapon to fight.  
Avalon shudders with a slight laugh, her chuckling exploding into full-on laughter. “Fool...idiot! You absolute dumbass, don’t you know that you’re standing before _my_ Servants?!”  
“Maybe so,” I say, “But I think you’ll find they’re a little harder to persuade than usual.”  
“Bullshit!”, she screeches, showing off the back of her hand and using one of her three Command Seals. “Altera, kill these idiots! They are your enemies, there’s no need to hold the charade anymore-”  
“Your Seals cannot hold me, witch,” the Lancer interrupts, gripping firmly onto Rhongomyniad as she got off of her horse, slowly walking towards the woman she once considered her Master, a cruel cackle emitting from her mouth as Avalon simply speaks aloud, “Unbound, the seven seals upon which thou hath been brought forth, alternate of Arthur! My need of thee is no longer, and thus, I return you to the Throne!”  
A golden light surrounded the Lancer woman, as well as her horse, yet despite this, she continued stepping forwards. “You bitch...I won’t see my service to you end like this…!”  
  
And then, she was gone, the golden light surrounding the Alter woman gone as Avalon howled with laughter, looking to me as she grinned, “I can take them all down, all your so-called backup Servants; they all belong to me, even if they’ve all left me behind, I own them, me, ME! I am their Master, not you, ME!”  
“You’re insane. I realized that, and that’s why-”  
“Shut up!”, Avalon interrupts me, obviously not wanting to hear anything of what I was about to say. “You were just jealous of _my success_ , and that’s why you broke up with me, isn’t it?! You wanted to steal our research and take all the credit, so I did it to you first!”  
“Wh-why would I try to steal our research? We did it together!”  
“For the clout, Kalas; you wanted to have your cake and eat it too, so I stole your cake in order to make you unable to steal my piece as well!”  
“You’re a madwoman. You didn’t want my approval at all, you just did what you wanted, and were willing to leave me behind despite me showing my support for you! I loved you, Avalon!”  
“Master,” Jalter says, gripping my hand as I shook with despair. I’d been keeping all of these feelings bottled up inside of me, but...she never even cared, not once…  
“Jalter,” I say flatly, and she looks at me, before I order, “Your orders are to kill the enemy Master. That’s what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”  
She looks at me with concern, but her features harden once she sees the resolve return in my face, and nods. “I promise, we’ll give it everything we’ve got. I don’t know how much help Altera and Circe will be, but...I’m with you one hundred percent, Master.”

As I turn from my Master, I look at the woman who had scorned him, the woman who had taken everything except the resources he had to achieve his greatest goal of summoning the ultimate Servant that evaded his grasp: me, Jeanne d’Arc Alter. He had summoned other Alters, but I was the one he could never summon until this crazed mage decided to settle a grudge that she had. I knew it was common for mages to use Servants to settle things, but this was a new one. Enabling a Holy Grail War, just to kill a single man? Outrageous, even for a human.  
I gripped my flagpole firmly, flying the inverted flag of Jeanne d’Arc as, with a smirk, Avalon called her own Servant forwards, my anger flaring up intensely.  
It was my other, the Ruler that had saved us before, looking guilty as she looked over at myself and my Master.  
“I don’t agree with this, Master-”, Jeanne began, but Avalon gripped her by the ponytail and tugged.  
“I don’t give a single fuck about what you want, Ruler, now get in there and kill those bastards before I unsummon you as well and get Hassan to do it!”  
The blonde grimaced at her Master’s order, pity and sorrow in her eyes as she drew her sword.  
“I’m sorry,” she said, a single tear falling from her eye, before the battle began, our swords clashing as I attempted to push my double off balance, but I knew that this wouldn’t be an easy fight; she was a Ruler class, and on top of that, she had abilities that allowed her to become invulnerable as well as protect her Master. This was how far I- no, we- had come, myself and my Master.  
  
Circe supported me as best she could while avoiding the gaze of that bitch Avalon, her eyes scanning the room in order to snap the pig witch out of existence, my Master trying to distract her by asking her benign questions so that Circe would be left alone for the duration of this fight, but Avalon wasn’t taking the bait. Finally, she got so frustrated that she used her second Command Seal:  
 _“Circe, show yourself.”_ _  
_I wasn’t able to see it myself, but it was like I was unable to even scratch Jeanne, my other self, but I could tell that I wasn’t going to hold on for much longer, not the way that she kept lowering my power and making me weaker before pushing me over, the sword in my hand skittering towards my Master as he watched Circe get unsummoned, the pure shock on his face similar to how I felt compared to the Ruler coming closer, a sad expression clear as day upon her face.

 _“Circe, show yourself.”_ _  
_I looked around for the pig witch, calling out to her and telling her not to do it, but her voice came out as she said in a strained tone, “I...I can’t...I’m sorry, Master, I can’t resist…”  
“Circe, please…”, I begged Avalon, looking at her. “Have you no soul? Haven’t you already taken everything away from me?”  
“Not yet I haven’t,” she grinned, looking to the pink-haired witch. “You’ve served me well, little piggy, but now it’s time for you to go.”  
“Master, please, I-I don’t want to go…!”, she pleaded, to which Avalon simply smiled more wickedly, and said, “You’re too important to him; that makes you a threat to me.  
As she snapped her fingers and spoke the incantation, Circe clung to me, sinking to her knees and sobbing. “I don’t want to go...I don’t want to leave your side again, Master…”  
“Circe, listen to me, ok? I’ll summon you again, ok? I promise, when this is over, I’ll bring you back,” I said to her.  
The pig witch looked up at me, surrounded by a golden light. “You...you will…?”  
“Absolutely. I promise, by the name of Odysseus, I’ll bring you back,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes.  
Her hand presses against my cheek. “My darling little pig…”, she says, lightly kissing me on the lips before disappearing completely.

I look at where Circe once stood, shaking and shuddering before slowly looking at Avalon, her face crossed with a large grin of pure malice. “I’ve done this before, and I’ll do it again. You never knew how good you had it with me, but who gives a shit, right? It’s not like I worshipped you or the ground you-”  
“Shut up,” I say, but she continues.  
“How dare you tell me, your _queen_ , to shut up. I should have-”  
“Shut UP!”, I bellow out, and the two Jeannes cease their fight to look at me as I step forwards towards Avalon. “It’s always been about how _you_ felt in all of this, but never about _me_ ! Have you _ever_ thought about how I was affected, huh?! Did you ever think about how your stealing my work and taking the credit was hurting me, and how it pushed me away from you? Obviously not, because you wouldn’t be doing this if you fucking did! At first, it was summoning in general that made you jealous of my magical prowess, then the Alters that made you jealous, then you decided to steal my research entirely and place your name upon it!”  
“And so it should have been! You got so much praise that it kept you away from me, don’t you get that? You were the one in the spotlight, not me, and I wanted to do it together.”  
“We _were_ doing it together, you crazy bitch! We had submitted the plans for the Servant Summoning Program in our joint name, as a pair! Was that not _enough_ recognition for you that you had to steal my work and ruin my name before trying to get rid of me completely in a fucking-”  
I stopped when I felt the knife stab me, Avalon’s hand gripping it as she gave me the coldest look I’ve ever seen, as she said, “Oh no, I wasn’t trying to get rid of you in this war; I tried doing that a long time ago. Now I’m just tying this loose end up.”  
  
As I saw my Master get closer to Avalon after Circe was unsummoned, I knew something was wrong, though myself and the Ruler called an unspoken truce to watch the events unfold, and once I saw my Master get stabbed by that stone cold bitch, I gave a loud bellow before pushing Jeanne aside and running for my sword before grabbing it and leaping at Avalon, the woman seeming to see me and easily dodging my leaping attack, parrying my every swipe with the knife she held in her hand while grinning at me. “Your Master is dying, and here you are, trying to avenge him. Just like your namesake, no surprise. But here’s the thing, bitch: you can’t beat me. Kalas couldn’t, so what makes you think that-”  
“Shut your fucking mouth, you two-bit _slut_ !”, I scream at her, all of my fury being pushed into my strikes, my speed increasing as Avalon visibly found it harder to parry my strikes. “I have fucking HAD IT WITH YOU! First, you disrespect your Servants and order them around like cattle.” I glance at Jeanne, and she nods slightly, the head of King Hassan seeming to appear and agree as well. “Second, you stole my Master’s work and passed it off as your own, all because you couldn’t handle his popularity.”  
My blood is boiling at this point; Kalas would normally have stopped me at this point, and as I think about this, my anger goes from bubbling over to red hot. “And third-”  
At this point, the knife flies out of Avalon’s hand, her anger visible upon her face, though it paled in comparison to my rage, my undying anger that I had suppressed in order to make my Master happy.  
“Third of all, _you really pissed me the fuck off._ ”

“Jalter…”, I hear from behind me, and I stop. My Master called for me, even though I’m so close to killing this bitch, this _whore_ , the one woman who took my Master’s feelings and crushed them, traumatized the everliving shit out of him, made him doubt himself. And yet…  
“Jalter...please...I need you…”, he calls, sounding sad, like he’s going to-  
No. Not on my watch.  
I turn to him and rush over, kneeling down with him as I keep an eye on Avalon, who seemingly begins screaming at Jeanne to kill me while I’m picking up my Master in my arms, bridal style, and lay him upon a flat stone table, much like the one he lay upon when we first came to the Mage’s Institute.  
  
I knew I was dying. But I had to give the order before then. Raising my hand, I used all three of my Command Seals.  
“Jalter.”  
“Yes, Master?”  
“I have three commands for you.”  
“Ok.”  
“One: protect my body, no matter what. Two: don’t kill Jeanne; take care of Avalon, and you won’t have to worry about her.”  
“And the third?”  
“...make a wish on the Grail yourself.”  
“Wh-what…?”  
  
Before he could clarify, Jeanne called out to me. “Hey. Other me.”  
I turn around to look at the blonde woman, and she has a more serious face now. “I know I said I didn’t want to kill you before, but…you and your Master are a much more serious threat to my Master, and therefore, I have to neutralize you and him. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”  
Gripping my sword, I turn towards her and properly face the blonde saint. “So. You don’t want to fight me, but rather, you _need_ to, yes?”, I ask, chuckling darkly. “You know that my Master is more or less upon his deathbed right now, and despite that, you still wish to fight?”  
“I do,” she says, and she barely blocks my first attack, a wicked grin crossing my lips as my white hot rage returns.  
“Then I have a suggestion for you, you blonde-haired harlot.”  
“What’s that?”  
“Run _._ ”“What?”  
“You fucking heard me, bitch.” I laugh slightly, then begin cackling like a madwoman as the Avenger spirit fills my very soul. “ _Run._ ”  
I then begin a relentless assault upon the blonde woman’s sword and flagpole with my own sword and flagpole, the fear in her eyes fueling my enraged attacks as she barely is able to defend, a one eighty flip from a few minutes prior.  
“You should have never given me a chance to collect myself. You should have stabbed me in the back like that slut Avalon ordered you to do. But now? _You’re a dead woman, and I’m going to make it as painful for you as possible_.”  
I knew that my order would make it so that I wouldn’t kill Jeanne, but at that moment I fully intended to kill the Ruler; she hadn’t stabbed my Master, but she may as well have let her Master do it. She didn’t give a shit about anyone; she didn’t understand what I was going through. She knew nothing of this sort of thing…!  
I continued laughing merrily as Jeanne stumbled and I got a good hit upon her body, her shriek of pain music to my ears as she fell over, my grin wide as I flipped my sword to stab her through the chest and end this-  
But then, I didn’t. My arms wouldn’t move to deal the final blow, and I knew exactly why, as she looked up at me, her ocean blue eyes staring up at me in fear: she, like me, was just a girl, fighting for what she believed was right. Aside from the order that my Master had given me, she didn’t want to fight me, because I was her, and she was me.  
I lowered my sword, my anger cooling slightly before I said, “I have to end this now. Please understand that it’s not personal.”  
  
Avalon, with a flabbergasted look, used her third Command Seal: “Jeanne! Kill that Avenger! Protect your Master!”  
Looking at me, the Ruler swallowed before gripping her sword and flagpole, standing up to Avalon’s initial glee, but her tune changed when she did nothing as I walked up the stairs towards the mastermind behind everything while she tried to escape.|  
“You-you _useless_ Servant! I should have summoned someone far better than you! You betrayed me in the end, too! You awful blonde bitch! You deserved to burn, Witch of Orleans!”  
I gripped my flagpole and, with all of my anger, stabbed Avalon through the chest, her gasps and sputters as she grabbed onto the pole and tried to pull it out made it all the more satisfying to push it in deeper into her chest as, slowly, she finally died, my knees giving out as I sighed in content.  
Jeanne approached me and asked me, “Am...am I a bad person, Jeanne?”  
I sighed. “One, never, ever call me that, Joan of Arc. I’m not you, and you’re not me. Simple as that. Two, no. You were just summoned by an evil Master who had a personal vendetta against my Master, nothing more, nothing less.”  
“I’m sorry for the trouble, Je-Alter,” she said, catching herself before calling Jalter’s name.  
  
Standing up, I realized that I was holding the Grail. A smile crossing my face, I ran over to my Master. “Master, Master! I did it! I got-”  
And then, the realization hit me: he was gone. It wasn’t before Avalon had expired, but it was soon afterwards, within the last few seconds as I was talking to my other. A wave of sadness washed over me as I began crying, slightly at first, before large, wet sobs came out of me, Jeanne watching over me as I wailed at the loss of my Master. “This is why he wanted me to make a wish…? He knew that he wasn’t going to make it? Bullshit, fucking bullshit! I...I…!”  
I didn’t know how to react. He had done so much for me, so maybe it was time to pay him back. There were a lot of things that I wanted to wish for, but...I knew what I had to do.  
“Jeanne, I want you to help me with this, ok?”, I asked, and the blonde nodded, pressing her hands upon mine as we spoke together…  
  
I felt my eyelids slowly open, my voice returning as I groggily awoke from what felt like an incredibly deep slumber, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “What happened…?”  
I then remembered that I was in the Mage’s Institute, and I looked around for both Jeannes, but only Jalter remained.  
“Hi, Kalas,” she said, smiling.  
“Jalter,” I smiled at her, getting off of the slab and hugging her close. “I’m sorry, Jalter, I’m so sorry-”  
“Yeah, you...you fucking should be...dick…”, shesaid, murmuring the last part as she pressed her face firmly against my chest, taking how I felt against her in.  
“So, I guess we won, then?”  
“Do you think you’d be here if we didn’t?”  
“Well, under the current circumstances, no; then again, getting stabbed wasn’t in my plan, either.”  
She gave a slight laugh at that. “Well...you’re ok now, right?”  
“Yeah, but...I was hoping you could stay longer…”  
Blushing, Jalter kisses me again, then smiles softly, the golden light surrounding her now. “It had to end eventually.”  
“I know,” I say, and before she disappeared completely, I said, “I love you, Jeanne d’Arc Alter.”  
With a smile, she nodded, and said, “And I you, Master Kalas. Thank you.”  
  
And then she was gone.


	16. Epilogue

About 6 months after the Avalon incident, I was reinstated as a full mage with the Mage’s Institute, helping develop the Servant Summoning System more directly and trying to create a system that would help the government workers at Chaldea summon Heroic Spirits if the need arose to solve any Singularities that could arise; time travel was an incredible magecraft, but changing the past had dire consequences, and if it meant that a major event would be completely different and alter the course of history, Chaldea would send a mage into that point in order to fix it. Thinking about how I helped create the system for summoning Servants that such a government facility used...it sent chills up my spine thinking about it.  
I received a notice of transfer to the Chaldea facility about a year after the Servant Summoning System was fully functional, and was sent to oversee one of the initial tests. After arriving, I was received by one Doctor Romani Archiman, who seemed very friendly, if a bit eccentric; then again, those involved with magecraft generally were. We shook hands and exchanged formalities before he brought me into the room where Chaldeas was housed, my jaw slack as my eyes widened at such an amazing system, the doctor telling me that it was used to observe potential Singularities, though nothing major had popped up yet, though he hoped that nothing would ever occur.   
While waiting for the proceedings to begin, I met a girl wearing glasses with a small rabbit-like creature upon her shoulder, named Mash Kyrielight and Fou, respectively; I asked her if she knew what Fou was, and her response (once Fou himself had responded with a pleasant-sounding “Fou”) was that he was as he looked: a furry creature that enjoyed being around her.   
I thought about Jalter, and if she could have been summoned by this Chaldeas; I thought of the clothes that she had left behind, having only worn them once, but still leaving a distinct scent upon them that no one else could match, as odd as that may sound. One of my former coworkers at the Mage’s Association said that once you have relations with a Servant, you’ll never sleep with any other girl again, but...there was some truth to his statement, even if it was just a joke: I hadn’t had a girlfriend or any romantic interest since that time, and I didn’t feel the need to have one. Besides, I made a promise to her and Circe that I would summon them when I got the chance.   
  
And then, the Summoning happened; the staff of Chaldea summoned their second Heroic Spirit, Leonardo da Vinci, a beautiful, yet eccentric, woman with quite a lot to say about our modern architecture. She wasn’t quite my taste, but she *was* one of the most famous painters and architects from the Renaissance, so 7/10, too many weird Caster-related quirks.   
I had asked previously about the first successful test, but no one could tell me about it, not even Olga; despite being so young, she seemed to understand the importance of being a leader after her father died under mysterious circumstances. I told her of my appreciation of being drafted to the Chaldeas project, but she seemed not to hear me, to my embarrassment.   
  
But I still held onto the dream that, one day, I would be reunited with Jalter, and see her smile again, hear her laugh, and perhaps...heh. Who knew what would happen.   
In any case, I have to go now; the new Masters are coming in tomorrow, and I’m supposed to watch over them, as part of why I’m here at Chaldea. It’s a very minor thing, but it’s also pretty important. For now, this is goodbye.   
  
Signed,   
Magister Kalas   
2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic; it was self-indulgent as hell, and ended just how I wanted it to, which may sound odd, considering that my self-insert is assumed dead, but we'll ignore that for now. As of this writing, I don't have Jalter in my Chaldea yet, but she'll be here, soon enough, I know it. This took a little longer than I would have liked to finish, but oh well; life happens sometimes. Thanks again, and leave a kudos if you liked it.


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